Well I had an entire post typed up but my stupid iPhone just closed out and deleted the whole fucking thing. Do you know how long it takes to type on this tiny keyboard with fat finger syndrome? I'm so annoyed.
So now I'm not going to wish you the "Merry Christmakkuhwanza" I originally did. Bah humbug. Also not apologizing for neglecting the blog lately. I've been busy drinking wine, eating copious amounts of sugar, and collecting dog hair on my imma-wear-these-forever-andyoucantstopme sweatpants.
Don't judge, I do this in the privacy of my own home. When I go out in public, I at least make it look like I've showered in the past three days. And people must buy it. Because apparently I'm one of those people "with a friendly face." now, don't get me wrong, I talk to people in the grocery store line, bars, airplanes, etc, but why must people ruin polite chatter by crossing that invisible line and cozying up to my "YOU ARE INVADING MY PERSONAL SPACE" area?
Example no. 1: simply trying to pee before going to see "it's complicated" with my parents. I'm not good with soft drinks. I turn into a five year old and have to pee every five minutes but then I want to see the movie so I squirm in my seat. So now I just go before. Anyway, the granny behind me is very nice and I like old people, so I humor her and do a little chit chat waltz. Well, granny had to go and turn the waltz into a bump n grind. She informs me that they saw Alvin and the Chimpmunks: the Squeakuel and then proceeds to start singing the songs and dancing. Even though i told her thats not the movie i saw, she kept trying to make me her little kareoke sing alog project. I didnt want to be a total scrooge but my bladder hurt and there were crying grandchildren crying and flinging water everywhere. I had a slight panic attack when she danced inti the stall and kept the door open. I thought she might be into peep shows, but thankfully I was not introduced to Mrs. Wrinkled Bum. I peed in lightening speed and wiped my still soapy hands on my jeans as I ran to find my family. I'm really into 18-60 y/o these days. Or just people who can read social cues. Others need not apply.
3 hours later: out of the movie, we go to coal vines. I like pizza, I like wine, sounds like a good idea. Well, you know what is apparently not a good idea? Peeing in public. Once again in line for the bathroom...don't "aagaaain?" me....it's been three hours. This woman likes my bag. [insert casual purse convo]. blah blah blah... Is your hand in my purse?! OMG...you are reaching into my bag and caressing the cloth!! Side note: I buy things at target. It's not like there was fur or silk lining in there. It's cotton! The fabric of your life? You know what it feels like so kindly remove your hand from the protective bubble where I keep my wallet! At this point I really wish she had been a guy and accidentally grabbed a tampon.
Amazingy, tampons are made of acid that will literally eat through male hands if they do not scream and release the tampon in 3 seconds or less. Who needs mace?
Example no. 3: my lasting example. When I was 17, my dad got sick of my unemployed ass and applied at Walgreens FOR ME. He literally walked in the door at 10 pm, said walgreens would be open 30 more minutes and that the manager was waiting for me. I started that weekend. Yes, I said weekend. Evil, father, pure evil. I worked in the cosmetics department which is SO embarassinh at 17 because stocking included itch and rash creams, feminine proucts, and....depends. Clearly 17 year olds are experts on adult diapers. At least some women think so. You would think that a grumbling "I don't know" would have been a good enough answer for a middle aged woman wanting a recommendation for her elderly father. If that wasn't good enough, you'd think reading her the descriptions of sizes, absorption, and thickness would have been enough. But no. God had decided I needed a good old fashioned character building exercise. The following conversation involved "bladder control" "bowel movements" and "seapage." O.M.Scarredforlife. WTF lady?! Did he have seapage in his moist panties? Neck. Skin. Crawling. I lasted 3 weeks.
Which was probably a mutually beneficial parting since my favorite part of the job was lining up the singing dancig hamsters, pushig their buttons all at once, then watching them knock each other over.
I'm sure "Mr. Larson" was glad to see me go. Doesn't a 40 year old walgreens manager deserve first name basis? Guess he didn't find me so friendly. Although he knew me. This only applies to utter strangers.....
So remember, cute mugs ain't all they're cracked up to be.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
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