Day 15
How one reacts to others in the morning is a decent indication of their overall personality...or so I found out this morning. After loading our giant trays with all varieties of starches, coffees, juices, and, if we're lucky, eggs we silently find out seats. Pleasantries are half-heartedly exchanged and people conduct mild conversations or hide behind newspapers they pretend to read. This is all nice and polite, these people will float through life unscathed (that is, if having high society busy work jobs, driving four door sedans and owning a house in a newer suburb is unscathed) but, they are not the only types to dine in the morning hours.
Other people come out, people who like to argue, people who like to say sun-shiny good things that should only be on "Inspirational" greeting cards, people who like to verbally announce their agendas for the day even though no one listens or cares, people who share their innane dreams and, my new favorite, rudely honest gay hawaiian men. I was lucky enough to witness one in top form, with his airy voice, darting eyes, and features that most closely resemble a cartoon mouse he managed to take charge of the table.
"And then, there's this girl in my program and like, she's got this fucking speech impediment and I fucking HATE her. God, it's so annoying...it's like, I had a speech impediment too, and like you should get that shit fixed when you're a kid, right?."
I would have given all the money in my wallet to record the procession of disgusted faces and half full trays that cleared out. I think I found a new best friend that isn't a book.
After breakfast I put on my I-Pod (that's filled with Norweigan music that I can't understand) and walked a long way (like 2 million kilometers) to get a coffee. I found a seat by the door and set to work. I was getting shit done, and then a woman walked in...a smiling woman. She was alone and looking smug, not one of those demented smiles of the delusional and dangerous, but a my-life-is absolutely-wonderful residual smiles. She waltzed around the coffeeshop with that fucking smile on her face. Her dancing happy eyes looked vaguely in my direction and I sneered, her smile continued. I tried to get back to work, but would look up every three minutes to find her. Everytime I saw her she was smiling. Why couldn't she just have been crazy, I thought as I packed up my things. I walked out the door and when I looked back there she was smiling at me, I wonder if she could read my lips when I said, "Bitch."
So, apparently every six weeks my residence hall hosts a "Formal Dinner". I was unable to attend the dinner portion of this event tonight (darn) but, from what I can tell wine was served, "important" people showed up, and a fancy dinner (expensive-sounding food slathered in BBQ sauce) was served between the "important" people's speeches. When I arrived, just in time for dessert, I found everyone to be dressed as though they were going to prom. And, then, I think I figured it out, maybe this IS prom for these poor, smarty pants people. Their were members of the opposite sex in attendence and Indian men singing karaoke (Leaving on a Jet Plane) and even a little dancing later on, what more would you need for a good prom night? Oh, yeah, plenty of booze. The nerd squadron managed to throw together their feeble reserves and around three people got completely smashed while the others watched, wishing they were drunk enough to let go of themselves even for a moment. Wait, it was exactly like prom but with multiple kings and a Hawaiian man for a queen.
-Canadian Castaway
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