Fight Night

This is last Saturday's post. Life happened between now and then. Here it is finally...

It’s been one of those weird days. Bad things have happened to good people. Not bad things have happened to bad (or at least severely annoying) people, for which I’m truly disappointed. I started out going thru the motions – earlier when I was thinking about this post I was going to say “desperately trying to wake up” but I wasn’t really. I rather prefer going thru the motions on autopilot as opposed to the harshness of desperately trying to wake up. That makes it sounds like I need all my faculties for something important, which considering my current job and the mental capacity of the temp, I don’t. Nothing bad against my job – it’s a job I’m happy to have and happier still it’s not a stressful one, but nobody appreciates needless drama. Besides, at the time I was prepping for a very trying day, one that started at 8am and wouldn’t end until 1am. Things have changed a little since then. The baby photo shoot got postponed a week – anyone who’s ever moved knows weird shit happens…we’ve managed to misplace most of the backdrops and the ones we can find smell heavily like gasoline. (WTF??). We, in our professionalism, didn’t think that would be appropriate for a 3 month old.


So instead of the mad dash, I got to go home, eat dinner (sitting at a table no less), chat with my hubby about the crazy nonsense the temp kid jibbered about, have a little private time, and read two chapters of my current book before heading out into post-fight mayhem. And yes, I’m pretty sure ‘jibbered’ is a word, even though my spell check is freaking out. It’s usually reserved for ghouls if my vocabulary serves me (it might be off today, you never know). Carrying on. I learned my lesson from the garage trolls last night. I’m wearing real clothes, parked in the middle of a row with other cars, away from the lights (so it’s bloody dark in here and I’m doing this by feel), and with the windows barely cracked open in the hopes of not attracting attention. I even dimmed the monitor. Fingers crossed.

So the temp kid poses this hypothetical scenario: what would you do if you knew the world was gonna end today?

I said I’d get the hell outta the shop and go home. He says obviously, that’s a given. I’m not sure if he’s smart enough to insult me, but he’s been dropping little digs like this all day and it’s brought my hackles up another inch. So I say, “ Well how long do we have? Two hours or twelve?” He says ok, midnight tonight the world is gonna end. Then he drops this fabulous one-liner: would you go steal stuff from the mall? My co-worker and I are slightly stumped and ask why (since logically you’d only have it for 6 hours anyway, what’s the point?). He’s talking about robbing a bank, getting all this money and stuff. Said he’d have his Bentley for a minute. – I’m beginning to notice a materialistic pattern here. I say I’d get in the car and just drive. He makes this condescending face at me, and says “what’s the point of that?” I ask “what’s the point of having money if in five minutes we all go up in flames?” Then he says the aliens are coming to abduct us all.

- picture me with an are-you-freaking-retarded look on my face.

Then he starts talking about that movie Will Smith did called I am Legend and saying things like ‘what if I’m the last man on Earth’ (when in point of fact, Will wasn’t the last man on Earth in the film) and ‘I could rob a bank’. (Again with this senseless greed…). I stumped him when I asked who he’d pay with all his money if he were the only one here.

God, we sound like twelve-year-olds bickering, don’t we? Gag.

Anyway, I was telling Honey about it later and before I said what I’d do, he says “ I’d get in the car and just drive”. Remember that line from Shrek about “our minds are already becoming one”? Yeah, we’re there.

So this is the bad part, and I’ll condense. Do you know someone who was more than likely intentionally given genital herpes? I do. And I don’t know how to comfort someone in that position. That’s serious life-altering shit. That’s a crappy conversation that will probably ruin most chances at getting laid. What can I possibly say that might make that remotely better? If you’ve got any ideas, I’m all ears. By the way, I’m told that in the US, 40% of sexually active people have herpes. Just FYI.