| Such A Pose I Could Simply Not Hold 07.20.2002 - Such A Pose I Could Simply Not Hold After a late night of doing absolutely nothing, I awoke at the crack of eleven with a few goals in mind: According to Meat Loaf, two out of three ain't bad, but I'm not so sure I want to take advice from a man whose most reknowned film role was a character called "Bitch Tits." After spending the first hour or so of consciousness reorganizing my CD collection, Jackson and I hopped in his car to run some errands in Woodland. I almost miss Woodland sometimes. Nowadays, I hardly ever hear someone say, "Hey, Lurleen, do you think this Jeff Gordon belt buckle goes with my Spuds MacKenzie coolats?" When I was working in Ol' Woody, I'd hear that four or five times a day. It was nice to hit the Thrift Store Outlet and the Grocery Outlet because, well, the only food I had in my cupboards before the trip was about three raw spaghetti noodles and anything I can do to put off laundry is always a bonus. I planned on getting my crazy madd clean on upon return to the apartment, but a message on our machine about a potential house for next year prevented me from doing so promptly. See, Davis has a vacancy rate less than one percent, which makes it difficult to find housing. Most people secure their housing in Februrary or March. It's July and we don't have a place to stay yet. Seeing as how I'd rather not live in the Shaggin' Wagon next year, I dropped what I was doing, called them back and arranged an appointment for a viewing. The place is gorgeous and cheap. The only problem is that I think the landlord will go with someone else because we're students. I'll wait for a call before I forget about it though. Once back, I set to making the apartment immaculate and succeeded for the most part. Aside from enjoying a clean place, my reason for tidying up was that I didn't want to bring a lady home to something reminiscent of the pee trough at Soldier Field. Two Thursdays ago, we went out to the local meat market of a bar supposedly to celebrate Jackson's twenty-third birthday. My fellow columnist, Jeremy, keeps running into these girls who apparently want to have their way with me, but seeing as how I never run into these girls, I had to assume that he was lying. He told me that one of these girls works at said bar, and while we were there, said girl recognized me. The following transaction took place: WAITRESS: [blank stare] About an hour later, she came by and slipped me a note that read, "Call me sometime and we can talk about how funny you are," and listed both her phone numbers. Now, since she gave me her phone numbers unsolicited, you'd think she might want to talk to me. After two unreturned phonecalls, however, I got to feeling differently. Because I was bored and had nothing to do, I accepted Jeremy's invitation to join him and another girl out at the same bar last Thursday. The waitress sees me there, comes up to me and apologizes for not returning my call. She asks me if I'd like to go to a party with her on Saturday, and I agree. So, I call and leave a message in the afternoon on Saturday seeing if she still wants to go out. Of course, she didn't call back. At least I got a clean apartment out of the deal. Because my Saturday night would otherwise be spent staring at my phone and cursing loudly, I accepted Jeremy's offer to go to his place to play Tecmo Super Bowl. Tecmo Super Bowl might be the one thing for which I've ever shown any remarkable talent. I've played it for over ten years and have never lost. Or should I say, had never lost. In order to make my Saturday night as pathetic as possible, I lost FOUR TIMES. After the last loss, I went home and cried my little eyes out. While masturbating, of course. But seriously though, if you're planning on ignoring me, ladies, be like the rest of the world and don't show any interest in the first place. Otherwise, it's just plain cruel. -- Jeffy |
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