Sarah's Guide to Picking me up in a Bar

I'm writing this in first person, but I really think I can speak for all girls when I say these are at least 5 things you should not do. They are in bold and annotaded at the bottom with further explanation.

A really hard thing to do is walk up to a total stranger and strike up a conversation. I realize this so I don't do it. But some people do dig deep and find that courage and I can't help but at least be respectful of it, no matter how instantly uninterested I am. Now I don't want this to be, in any way, interpreted as delusions about the pleasure of my company. It really did stick in my craw and I sincerely hope this may help someone.

True story.
I was at a birthday party at Goose Island on Saturday for my friend Horton*. I was at a fairly large table with some friends just talking and enjoying myself. I found myself pretty alone at one point as people went to the bathroom or to get drinks and this guy sits down next to me and says "You look famliar".(1) Now I've gotten this line before, and as I said, it's hard to walk up and just talk to people so I was nice in my indifference. I said,"Oh, ya know I get that a lot, I think I may just have one of those faces." He had absolutely no response to this. No follow up. No contingency plan. (2) I was feeling a little awkward so I introduced myself. He said "I'm Harry*". Again no, follow up. And then word vomit. He went on about how hard it is to talk to girls and how you have to be really sure about your game (which he had none) and that, as a writer, he was excited to go home and recount this experience in his journal (or blog or something). I didn't know what to say. I mean, what do you say after that. So I said nothing. My aim was to make it so uncomfortable for him that he'd just excuse himself. And he did. But not after explaining that he was going to go away for a few minutes to collect his thoughts. Or more likely, to re-game his game.
So he came back, as promised. Luckily my friend Hattie* was on top of it. She spidey sensed my distress and came to take over. She successfully passed him along to my friend Holly-Jo* who is too nice to not talk to him, but is genuinely interested in things people have to say. So I had my back turned and was talking with Hattie. He stayed at the table .(3) I saw him out of the corner of my eye reaching for a cupcake the Holly-Jo made for Horton's birthday. But he wasn't reaching to eat it. He picked at the frosting and wiped it all on the table and left it there. (4) Who does that? Hattie's boyfriend Carlton* had to wipe it up.

So here comes round three. He sits down next to me again and asks how I know Horton. I said "My cousin Lucille's* husband Buster* is a really good friend of his. How about you?" He said he works with Horton's friend Monjombo* and asked if I knew him. I asked him to point him out and it turned out to be a guy I only knew as Sharky, so I said "Oh Sharky, I've met him a few times, he's a nice guy". His face went white. He actually asked me not to mention to Sharky that he struck out because he'll make fun of him at work.(5) Dude, it's really hard to strike out when you haven't even gotten up to bat.
The End

* names have been changed to protect the innocent

(1) Don't use this line until you have confirmed with at least 3 people that you actually DO know this person.
(2)So you don't know this person. Now what. This encounter is unsolicited so it is up to you to either walk away or come up with something pretty interesting to talk about. You brought this on yourself.
(3)If someone you were talking to turns her back at the first available moment, it's time to leave.
(4)Don't ever, ever do this. With anything. Someone made those cupcake for a birthday and you decide it's appropriate to wipe it on the table. Are you serious? You don't even know the person that made those. You have no respct, sir, and thus you also will never have mine.
(5) Of couse I'm going to tell people. You are ridiculous. Everyone knows that the last thing you do if you don't want people to find out about something is tell people not to say anything. Idiot.I hope Sharky found out.

Lessons Not Learned

I took a nasty spill on my way into work yesterday. I simply did not see that patch of ice. My thumb went straight through my Dunkin Donuts coffee cup and I got coffee all over my nice white jacket. Luckily, my office is technically a condo and comes equipped with my choice of not one, but two washing machines.
I took off my jacket and went into the bathroom to soak the right arm of my jacket so the coffee didn’t set. As I was rubbing Tide into the edges of the stain, I actually felt sick. I love this jacket. I love the color, and the collar, and I love how the belt goes around the smallest part of my waist (Stacey London would be proud) and most of all I love how it’s inexplicably is warm in the winter and is just enough covering on a chilly April night. And then my stomach hurt. It wasn’t a hurt like I just had a huge cup of coffee and a flax seed granola bar and now the wheels of regularity are in motion; it was my stomach hurts because I’m worried. I could feel that sour taste in my mouth the tingles your jaw. I was about to throw up. I was about to throw up because I may have ruined my jacket; and I wondered, how did I get to a place in my life where coffee on a jacket would upset me so much?
I didn’t hurl. I put the jacket in the wash with hot water and just hoped. I was sitting at my desk remembering other times when I felt that worry. For me, there are two types of worry. The first is the type of worry that I feel when I get an unexpected bill or a flat tire. It’s temporary because I know that there is a quick fix. I have AAA and a really good health insurance company. The other is a type of worry that is a little more lingering. It happens when I really disappoint myself. Not on a grand scale or anything just the thought that had I been a little more careful, I could have avoided this feeling.
Case in point (at one end of the spectrum, then the other):
I had this pair of shoes that I loved. They went with everything, the heel was the right height to be able to walk reasonable distances in, and they were comfortable. I wore them all the time, even in the winter. They were leather shoes and the salt and snow had eaten away so much of the leather on the heel so as to expose the bones. I watched it happen but rather than wear rubber soled shoes while outside, I wore those shoes. Come spring, the heel broke when I was walking to a company event on Michigan Avenue. I could absolutely not walk in these shoes and actually had to stop at Macy’s and buy a new pair for fear that my shoes were about to fill with my own blood. My stomach hurt and my jaw tingled.
Spectrum-Other end:
Some may remember a very brief time in which there was an actual human male in my life. Sure he lived 400 miles away, but whatever. He was easily the coolest person I’ve met in a long time and I often think that if I hadn’t acted like a crazy person, we might even still be friends. A year later it still makes me sick that I had zero self control in that situation. I mean, relax baby! Dare I say, take a chill pill. I don’t know what chemically changes in girls during a time like this but I’m pretty sure in me, it’s the expectation for something to go wrong and the unwavering compulsion to prevent wrong from happening. It’s often quite counterproductive, it turns out. I don’t even know who that girl was but that one really made this girl’s jaw tingle.
So back to my jacket. It’s fine and it smells like Tide. I am truly lucky there are people in the office that don’t short circuit at times. This is the reason I still have that jacket. Had this happened on my way home from work, the jacket would probably be in my “lessons not learned” pail with my brown leather shoes and a Minnesota license plate, which is the one thing I can’t seem to escape, but serves as a, seemingly daily, reminder to think before I act.

Today, in Bizarro World

Do you know what makes a small plane the most enjoyable? A wailing baby. It's true. I can't tell you the joy I felt when that tiny human let out a noise I never thought possible by any human. And the joy only grew as it continued its cherubic song for 2 hours. And I have to commend the mother on the genius choice of putting her tray table in the down position so that her precious has a place to bang her set of plastic keys.
Did you know that she was the first person in the history of time to ever have a baby? True story. Can you believe it? A 5 month old baby that weighs as much as a 9 month old. I tell ya, that never happens. Her doctor says so, I heard all about it. The father disappeared but her current boyfriend plans on adopting her once she's old enough. She tried to put her boyfriends name on the birth certificate, but the hospital wouldn't let het for some reason. Well, doesn't that just beat all??!! I bet it has something to do with biological reasons. Whatever.
Oh, well she has a poopy diaper. That may be why she's crying. It would be good for you to change her on this tiny plane where people are trying to read books or sleep. Go ahead, that won't bother anyone. Oh, that wasn;t the reason she was crying? Huh...what do you think I could bo? Well, why don't you just continue to ignore her and keep filling those around you in on how you're bringing your charming daughter across the country to see her Great Great Grandmother. Ahhhh...generations of young single mothers. So refereshing.

The Two Month Itch...

Look at me!! Back into the blogosphere. I think went into limbo cause I can't do this at work, where all my best ideas come to me. But the Surf Control was lifted for some system training and never descended. Hopfully it will continue to be overlooked.
Anyway, what's new with me? Not much. I'm a scientologist now. My car broke down on Lincoln Avenue right in front of the Scientologist Recruitment Center there and they were nice enough to let me use their phone. Something about being a good samaritan and them being the most important part of the future of the human race....anyway, I bought a black turtleneck and adopted a false sense of superiority and here I am.
I also got a new showerhead. That was a big step. It's the kind that detaches and makes an excellent microphone.
Ok, so starting monday, when awesome things cross my mind, they will be here. Unless I am surf controlled again, in which case I will have to write things down.

The Very First Thanksgiving

I thought it might be fun to spice up the same old Munley Family Thanksgiving dinner by playing a little dress-up.
I also thought Buddy and I could re-enact the first Thanksgiving. I mean all he had to do was show up. I played Pocahontas, who probably did all the work anyway.
Well, we tried but the whole scene went straight to hell cause I'm pretty sure Pocahontas didn't get drunk on Spanish Wine and the pilgrims probably didn't retreat to a corner to chew on an old sock. Sometimes Buddy is useless. Usually when we do scene studies together he's totally the leader. A visionary even. Like that one time we re-enacted one of the Legolas vs. Orcs scenes from Lord of the Rings in the backyard; we were right in the middle and he chased a squirrel into the bushes. Or so I thought. I had to eat my words when it was revealed he was just taking a little artistic liberties and portraying, symbolically, the Orc overcoming his own fear of mortality. I guess I maybe I didn't get it cause Legolas is an elf and I think they live forever, unless murdered. Plus it would have been much more obvious had he not stopped for a twosie by the magnolia tree.
So I wouldn't exactly say Buddy "ruined" thanksgiving, but he defintely didn't add to the enjoyment.