Day 139
Today was a remarkably good day. I didn't stab myself or go on any awkward pseudo-dates. It was the kind of day when you opened your blinds and danced to music and in your mind you think you look like you were one of the leads in Dirty Dancing. I was, you know, insane. After my glee festival I packed off and headed to something called a "Brown Bag Lunch" which meant, bring your own damn food if you wanna eat, the Writing Department can't afford to pay to remove the asbestos from the walls let alone give out free lunches. Hopefully the toxicity of the the asbestos-filled air makes us better writers or at least delusional enough to think that we are amazing writers instead of just killing us slowly.
Anyway, I went to this lunch that wasn't a lunch to find that it was my fellow students in the Creative Writing program discussing the program and their likes and dislikes so far. There was one lady from the undergrad program who said that she didn't feel like there was any sort of camaraderie or "networking" going on. Some people say that you should always tell the truth and I used to believe that until today. How do you tell this woman that the reason she doesn't get invited to things or "networks" with her fellow students is because she is older and they are too stupid to realize the value of older people (they usually have something interesting that has happened to them and makes for a good story that usually starts out with, "When I was addicted to PCP, I...). Also, they are afraid of her and see her eagerness to be back in school as an air of superiority. And, if you don't put yourself out there don't expect anyone to come and invite you to their goddamn birthday party or anything. Plus, she is a suck up and nobody likes suck ups (Note: In Canada a suck up or kiss ass is called a "keener").
So, at supper tonight not only did I move seats to sit closer to the guy that I went on a horrid pseudo-date with but I asked him out. Apparently, it's not just him that didn't register that when I went to the movies with him I leaned as far as I could away from him and kept my hands to myself I obviously didn't realize what it meant either. Geez, now I have to sit through another movie with this guy. Cripes. I suppose I could cancel but how rude is it when you invite someone out and then you are the one who cancels? Ahh, I never claimed to be polite.
Tonight I had to work at the pub with my friend and our co-worker who is a large, African guy who is in his 10th year of getting a PhD and has a penchant for saying the most inappropriate thing possible at all times. This inappropriateness often starts with, "Tell me about your love life..." This usually gets him into trouble with female co-workers but not with me and my friend who was working tonight, we've come to enjoy his nastiness. Well, except his ass crack sticking out of his pants and the way that he tells me that I am fat and should go to the gym but other than that he is a the perfect creepy old guy AND he super dumb which is quite humourous.
But, tonight was special. The manager thought it would be a great idea to host a bingo night at the pub as a way to draw in customers. I wonder if he has ever been actually seen the types who play bingo. My friend, myself and the creeper co-worker and we were the only ones playing. Technically, we couldn't even win the shitty prizes (promo stuff from beer companies) but, I stole a shirt. So, as we are playing, the creeper is shouting out the following phrases:
"Yeah, faster, faster."
"That's what I want. Yeah."
"Give it to me."
"Yes! Yes! Yes!"
"That feels good."
"I like to play hard."
And my favorite, the inexplicable, "I am coommmmmmmmmming." Why would anyone scream this when they are playing bingo? Well, unless...
So, all said it was a pretty good day nothing like morning insanity and dirty bingo.
-Canadian Castaway
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