I went with my boss last night to my aunt's salon. She needed her hair cut and I thought it might be fun to tag along. Also, I wanted to play a little Wing for her and my aunt had my Wing CDs. At some point we decided it might be nice to go buy a bottle of wine and have a couple glasses or so. OR SO. I drank an entire bottle by myself. Totally drunk, my boss and I decided that it might then be fun to go out and hit up some of the local queer bars. For the record, these bars are generally not okay in my book. Really not okay. But I was too drunk to care.
After drunk-dialing a half-dozen people while I was waiting for my boss to freshen her make-up (I think I left Connie a message that said something like, "This is totally a drunk dial." You can't fault me for honesty) we went to the first bar. At this bar I sucked down four Bacardi and Cokes with lemon, stole a lot of olives from the bar, and bumped into a homo and a les with whom I went to high school. They came over and said "Wow! Taylor! Haven't seen you in a long time!" and I said, "Oh, hi. I thought you two looked familiar. I'm sorry, what are your names again?" even though I totally knew their names. I can be a bitch like that when I'm drunk. Or when I'm not. Whatever.
Then we went to another bar and I don't remember much other than dancing all dirty up on my boss.
I guess I made it home at some point because my brother came home around 1:30am to find me laying down in the bathtub with the water running, still wearing a wife beater and my underwear, singing "that Kelly Clarkson song you listen to over and over again."
Also, something interesting must have happened last night because I found my pockets stuffed with condoms this morning.
This is why I only let myself go out once every 47 years.
Sometimes 2 million people seem to have not received their newspaper, have lost their newspaper, or have somehow manage to wedge their newspaper up into their butt. Sometimes one of our paper carriers decides it's okay to driver her "big, ugly jeep" (the customer actually said "big, ugly jeep") up onto the lawn of a subscriber.
Honestly, though, a good 85% of the time my job is painfully boring. Well, maybe not "painfully", but definitely boring. Thank God for my boss is all I can say. She's probably the most super-duper coolest boss ever. I got an email around 2:30 today from her that said, "Is it 4:00 yet? I'm totally going to blow my brains out if I don't get out of here soon." to which I replied "I'm sorry, I don't have a gun, but I do have a semi-frozen ice pack in my lunch box that you might be able to bludgeon yourself to death with."
But, let me say, just when I think my job is the most boring job ever all I have to do is take 20 steps away from my desk and into the foyer to talk to The Elevator Driver Man. The Elevator Driver Man actually has to drive the elevator. It's very old. The elevator and The Elevator Driver Man have those two things in common. TEDM is probably 900 years old. In reality, he's probably 90. TEDM has the worst job ever and he is more than willing to tell you every time he takes you for a ride. He'll ask how you're day is going and then he'll tell you how much he hates his job. I once made the mistake of saying that it was a slow day. I guess no one has a slower day than TEDM who drives an elevator that maybe gets used 15 times a day tops.
Also, he sleeps. That's how he passes the time. He just goes to sleep in his little chair. I walked out into the foyer today to take my daily trip to the third floor and he was sleeping like only a baby or a man on the brink of death could. I usually just step heavily on the first step to wake up him. Today I stepped on the first step and he didn't wake. I hit the second step a little louder. Still nothing. I really nailed that third step, I'll tell you. He opened his eyes. I apologized for waking him and he said, "No, it's good to know I'm still alive." I suppose at that age the line between sleep and death is dangerously fine.
Also, I flirted with the guy who answered the phone when I called the admissions department for a school to which I'm applying. He started it, though. But I flirted back. He was all "Oh, you went to UMASS Lowell! Do you still go there? I'm from there. Oh, you don't? Where do you live now? Oh, that's nice!" and I was all "Okay Kevin! Thanks Kevin! I'll tell them I spoke with you Kevin! You've been very helpful Kevin! Take care Kevin!" And this was totally different from this because Kevin sounded young and cute and not like a greasy meatball.
Posted by Taylor on February 23, 2005 @ 7:44 pmOh she totally did.
I told my boss that I missed last night's American Idol and she told me that I used up my one allowable miss of the season. She told me that if I miss tonight's episode (which, obv, I did not) I had better "lie like a dog in the morning."
You can imagine her dismay when I told her that I would not be watching tomorrow night's elimination episode. There's no fucking way I'm missing the finale of Project Runway.
Posted by Taylor on February 22, 2005 @ 9:03 pm