Tired. Wrist sore. Sick of people.
Okay. Not everyone, and not forever. But for right now, people are dumb and THOUGHTLESS. Oooooooooh crap another rant?
Tonight sucked. Got hit on by some gross guy who was so inebriated that he couldn’t understand a word we were saying, let alone make himself understood. And to make matters worse, he started talking in French. I spoke French back to him, and he said “whassss? whass you sssshaying?”. Dick. He had said to us, “Parlez-vous Francais?” And I said, “Oui!” But this sort of had him taken aback as I don’t think he expected me to say yes. This is the second time that a drunk guy has tried speaking French to me, without actually being able to speak the language. What is it about French? Do they think they’re being romantic, while drooling and spitting and hacking out some clichéd French phrase with an Australian accent thrown in? Do they think that it’s impressive? This is something taht I don’t understand. I said back to him, “Pourquoi as-tu dit que tu parle français?” But he couldn’t answer me. He also did that whole “Play it cool” thing like off the Simpsons, where grandpa simpson is teaching homer his smooth moves in winning the ladies. Which includes doing the yawn-stretch-put-your-arm-around-her-shoulder routine. And this was extended to lean-in-to-ask-a-question-and-surreptitiously-feel-her-leg-and-hold-her-hand-and-move-in-for-the-kill. GROSS. So I said, “I’m going to go dance.” and Noelle and I left him to his quest to get as intoxicated as possible without passing out. He wasn’t giving up easily though, and grabbed hold of my hand as we were walking away and nearly bruised my fingers, he was holding on that tight. God. Desperate much? On the upside, they did play some cool music. On the downside they had no aircon, and of course they wouldn’t have windows, and so it was so stuffy inside.
Anyway, now for a photo before I fall asleep at my computer: (I will post more photos from last night when I wake up tomorrow).
This is not so much a picture from last night as a picture from yesterday daytime at work. There is a sign in the stairwell that says something along the lines of “don’t feed the possums.” I have never seen a possum in the stairwell, and I would be inclined to doubt their existence if it hadn’t been for that damn Simpsons episode where Homer was the driver of the monorail and there were possums in the electronics closet or somewhere, and so that lends a bit more veracity and context to the sign.