Sunday, February 29, 2004
What a weekend. First, what is it about me that makes people want to chat? No, I don't mean that as snarky as it sounds, LOL. I had a weird day at work today: first, Tye, this kid who does cleanup, was telling me all about his new apartment. I was pretty busy, and was friendly enough, I suppose, but I really didn't have time to chat, so I didn't ask any questions, and kept my comments brief, "Sounds cool." and such. He followed me from room to room and ended up borrowing a pen so he could draw the floorplan of his apartment. I didn't ask a single question! I couldn't have cared less about how his apartment is laid out. Just shortly after that, SYT came strolling in sipping some coffee and carrying some papers--he'd been working on a term paper for his psychology class. Again, without prompting, or expressing interest in any regard, he sat and read his paper to me aloud while I assembled fruit tartlets. I gave him brief, but positive feedback, and we discussed his sources for the paper for a bit, but I'm still befuddled: why did he just walk in and start reading his paper to me?? Do I have a big sign on my hat saying, "TELL ME MORE!!!"??
And dammit if SYT was looking Mighty Fine in his jeans and T-shirt. What is it about seeing someone out of uniform when you're used to seeing them in one? It's like a half-step away from seeing them naked, I swear. That boy is yummy. And did I mention, the paper he was writing was about the nature of beauty? He came in and talked to me for 20 minutes about what we consider "beautiful" and why.
SOMEBODY TELL HIM to stop torturing me and just take his damned clothes off!! On second thought, that could be potentially torturous, too. Please, when you speak with him, be more specific. Graphically specific.
Oh yes, then he told me he was thinking about going home next weekend if he could, so he could get his motorcycle, since the weather was starting to turn warmer. I'm suddenly inundated with images of wrapping my arms and legs around him... AAAAAAAAAAARRRRH! I really need to get laid. Inanimate objects are starting to look attractive. You know how bad it is? As I was strolling through the halls at school, I passed a bulletin board that was covered with photos taken at recent school social events. There were probably about a hundred photos tacked up haphazardly. I quickly scanned the pictures to see if I could see anyone I knew. I paused at the few photos featuring someone in chef's whites, given that my chances of knowing them were higher than the street-clothed people. I came across one with someone in whites sitting at a picnic table. I didn't recognize her, but standing over her shoulder was a guy in a T-shirt and jeans. Unfortunately, the photo cut his head off just at his jaw--but I knew exactly who it was. How sick do I have to be to recognize this guy's torso??? I scanned a few adjacent photos to see if there was another shot of the person in that shirt, and sure enough, there he was, in his nubile glory. I'm a sick, horny old woman.
A night of good clean fun. Yes, it was good, and unfortunately it was perfectly clean. Completely rated G. My employer (OK, one of my many employers) hosted a Game Night at the restaurant after hours last night. He bought a ton of food, and all the employees brought board games and sat around for a few hours playing. It was nice--nice to see how normal people have good, clean fun. Weird, though. I was the only person there over 21 without a spouse. So I got to sit at the "kids" table, with the group of high schoolers. They're cool girls, much more mature than you'd expect from an 18 year old, but they're still obviously 18. When the party was breaking up, the young'ns invited me to go bowling with them. I told you it was good clean fun. We got there, and P's brother met us there with a friend, Dustin. Dustin was a little hottie. Sort of a teenaged Tom Cavanaugh-slash-Rick Springfield. Yeah, teenaged. The kid was 18. Talk about feeling like the chaperone of the group. What's worse is, it was something like 1985 since I last bowled. I finished the first game with a score of 49. I got home about 1am, tired and smokey. I considered lying to STBX about where I'd been and with whom, but it seemed silly to go to the effort. It was nice to get out of the house and have fun, but now I'd like to have a night of good, UNclean fun. Rated X. Or maybe Rated AC-17.
And dammit if SYT was looking Mighty Fine in his jeans and T-shirt. What is it about seeing someone out of uniform when you're used to seeing them in one? It's like a half-step away from seeing them naked, I swear. That boy is yummy. And did I mention, the paper he was writing was about the nature of beauty? He came in and talked to me for 20 minutes about what we consider "beautiful" and why.
SOMEBODY TELL HIM to stop torturing me and just take his damned clothes off!! On second thought, that could be potentially torturous, too. Please, when you speak with him, be more specific. Graphically specific.
Oh yes, then he told me he was thinking about going home next weekend if he could, so he could get his motorcycle, since the weather was starting to turn warmer. I'm suddenly inundated with images of wrapping my arms and legs around him... AAAAAAAAAAARRRRH! I really need to get laid. Inanimate objects are starting to look attractive. You know how bad it is? As I was strolling through the halls at school, I passed a bulletin board that was covered with photos taken at recent school social events. There were probably about a hundred photos tacked up haphazardly. I quickly scanned the pictures to see if I could see anyone I knew. I paused at the few photos featuring someone in chef's whites, given that my chances of knowing them were higher than the street-clothed people. I came across one with someone in whites sitting at a picnic table. I didn't recognize her, but standing over her shoulder was a guy in a T-shirt and jeans. Unfortunately, the photo cut his head off just at his jaw--but I knew exactly who it was. How sick do I have to be to recognize this guy's torso??? I scanned a few adjacent photos to see if there was another shot of the person in that shirt, and sure enough, there he was, in his nubile glory. I'm a sick, horny old woman.
A night of good clean fun. Yes, it was good, and unfortunately it was perfectly clean. Completely rated G. My employer (OK, one of my many employers) hosted a Game Night at the restaurant after hours last night. He bought a ton of food, and all the employees brought board games and sat around for a few hours playing. It was nice--nice to see how normal people have good, clean fun. Weird, though. I was the only person there over 21 without a spouse. So I got to sit at the "kids" table, with the group of high schoolers. They're cool girls, much more mature than you'd expect from an 18 year old, but they're still obviously 18. When the party was breaking up, the young'ns invited me to go bowling with them. I told you it was good clean fun. We got there, and P's brother met us there with a friend, Dustin. Dustin was a little hottie. Sort of a teenaged Tom Cavanaugh-slash-Rick Springfield. Yeah, teenaged. The kid was 18. Talk about feeling like the chaperone of the group. What's worse is, it was something like 1985 since I last bowled. I finished the first game with a score of 49. I got home about 1am, tired and smokey. I considered lying to STBX about where I'd been and with whom, but it seemed silly to go to the effort. It was nice to get out of the house and have fun, but now I'd like to have a night of good, UNclean fun. Rated X. Or maybe Rated AC-17.
Comments:
Post a Comment
