Memorable Speech

Almost a Date

2009-01-22T21:40:00.000-07:00

I've been getting calls about my the impending expiration of my vehicle's warranty. I've been getting these calls for six months. The recording never mentions the business's name.
I keep pushing #2 like the recording says to get taken off the call list. The recording keeps saying this is my last chance.
I keep getting these calls.

Today I pushed #1 instead.
Guy: This is Bob. [notice, again, no actual business name]
Me: Hi, I keep trying to get taken off your call list and it keeps not working. Please remove me.

He launched into a spiel about how important a vehicle warranty was and was I really ready to pay for unexpected repairs, etc? And, while I've had that call with AOL, this one was not the least bit, "I'm sorry to hear that, but..." It was "No, you can't be serious. You need a warranty." So, not the AOL schtick, but outright assholery.

Me: No, I want to be removed from your call list.
Bob: How 'bout I take you out to dinner instead?
Me: How about you remove me from your call list?
Bob: Come on, we'll go out, have wontons -- [line went dead]

I went online and filed a complaint with the Better Business Bureau. Don't know if they can do anything, but reporting a scam can't hurt. Besides, it's a 702 area code. Dinner would've been logistically hard anyway.

It's A Good Rule.

2009-01-22T21:06:00.004-07:00

I broke my answering the door rule again the other day. I wasn't expecting anyone, yet I opened the door. One of these days I'll learn.

Woman 1: Hi, we're going around to the houses and talking to people today.
Woman 2: Have you read our magazine?

Ah yes, these women. Again.

They asked me if I wanted to talk about the Bible. I said no. Then I said, "I'm an atheist."
Woman 2: Is it because you're frustrated by the hypocrisy in the church?
(Right. 'Cause that's the definition of atheist.)
Me: No.
Woman 1: I remember you.

If only they would remember to skip my house next go 'round. Or, if only I would remember that there's a really good reason that I don't answer my door.

Next time I'm going to tell 'em I've converted to Scientology and would they like to talk about the aliens?

Maybe We're Getting A Little Too Close

2009-01-05T08:48:00.002-07:00

Friend: You know how busy and stressed I am? It has been three days since I washed my hair. Three. I mean, I've showered every day, but this morning I actually had to think about when was the last time I washed my hair.
Me: Uh, that's nice.
Friend: And you don't even want to know how long it's been since I shaved my legs.
Me: You know, you're right. I really don't. In fact, I just don't think I need any details at all about your personal hygiene.
Friend: Yes, Ali. Yes you do.

A Concern For Clarity

2008-12-06T22:50:00.003-07:00

My mom sends me e-mail forward from time to time. Today, I got one with a unique subject line:
Musical balls (NOT porn)

Thanks for making that clear mom, 'cause otherwise I definitely would have assumed my conservative Catholic mother was e-mailing me something X rated.

At the Vet's

2008-12-03T13:12:00.002-07:00

Vet's assistant: It must be foreign objects day or something.

Why'd I Quit?

2008-11-25T23:26:00.002-07:00

At the dog park:

Guy: Hey, are you still working at the bar?
Me: Nope.
Guy: What happened?

And then I thought:
Just didn't see waitressing as my life's calling.
Who are you and why do you care?
I killed a patron for stiffing me on the tip and they won't let me go back.
Got tired of random people asking me personal questions.

And then I said:
Me: Just got another job.

Which, really, is its own proof of concept, isn't it?

Yappy Types

2008-11-24T22:04:00.003-07:00

Deb recently pointed out to me that it's been a while since I've updated. I told Deb I've been busily working on my thesis. She told me I need to take Sherman to the dog park more and stop making excuses.

So, here's a word about the dog park. Like every other type of human interaction, do it a few times and you see patterns. There's the worried-their-dog-will-cause-problems type, who keeps a very close eye on their beast and is afraid their dog will be aggressive; there's the wants-their-dog-to-ignore-everything-else-and-pay-attention-only-to-them type (which is baffling, 'cause why bring your dog to a dog park if you just want it to play fetch with you); and a variety of others.

My least favorite of them all is the paranoid over-protective type who bring lap dogs to the dog park. You see, my own dog likes little beasties. She especially likes to charge up to them at full speed and try to get them to play. The paranoid types take this to mean my dog wants to eat theirs. They freak out and I become the evil owner of the vicious dog. It's great fun.

Today, Sherman and I were at the dog park. Enter couple w/lap dog. Woman calls to dog in a particular, high-pitched type of voice. I think to myself, "Great, she's one of those." Cue my dog spotting her dog. Sherman sprints and does her best to get the little yappy thing to play. The woman freaks right the hell out.

"Screw this," I think to myself. I grab Sherman and we make our exit. The dog park would be so much nicer if there were fewer people in it.

Bossing Around

2008-09-23T12:02:00.004-06:00

In general, there's a good vibe at the dog park. However, I must have picked an off morning to go today. My primary annoyance was a woman who I've seen before a few times. I liked her at first, (her dog and mine like to play together, which made me happy) but that's faded. She tends to talk to my dog and ignore me.

She also tends to act like my dog is hers, and as anyone with kids can tell you, that's annoying. The only one who should be bossing my dog around is me. So, when I hear, "No, Sherman," or "Come here, Sherman, play with this," and it didn't come out of my lips, I'm really not digging it. I mean, I get it if there's a situation where intervention is needed, but otherwise, leave my dog alone. She's allowed to do dog things. Since when is sitting under the picnic table a crime?

And then, of course, as I was sitting at a picnic table, working through some Comp. papers, I glance up at the dogs in front of me. A guy off to the side says, "Smile. Come on, just a little one." I ignore him.

Guy: Smile. I know you heard me.

At that, I look at him.

Guy: Why won't you smile?
Me: I'm not in the habit of smiling just because someone tells me to.
Guy: What are you doing?
Me: Grading papers.
Guy: Oh, I'd get bored and fall asleep half way through the first page.

I didn't think that merited a response, so I didn't give him one.

Fun Story About My Brother's Girlfriend

2008-09-21T17:23:00.003-06:00

I saw my brother for a bit yesterday at the tailgate party for an Air Force game. We hung out, ate some grub, and he introduced me to some more of his friends. One of whom was a gal sporting a thumb splint.

Brother: So one night a couple weeks ago, we were hanging out and she finds out I'm ticklish. She starts tickling me, and one of the times when I jerked, I got her thumb caught between my side and my elbow. I heard it pop...

The reason for the pop? He broke the girl's thumb. A bit later, we'd walked over to some other people and one of the guys says to my brother: Hey, I noticed your status just changed on Facebook. You're not single any more?

Brother (blushing): Uh, no.

Did you guess it already? Didja? That's right, my brother's new girlfriend is none other than the gal he maimed. And they started dating after he maimed her.

I totally vote for that as the best "how we started dating" story out of all the people I know.

Ethnic Incongruency

2008-09-14T08:39:00.002-06:00

Mom and I swung by Oktoberfest yesterday. It was mildly hilarious. You can easily see where this town's roots are.

There was bratwurst, sauerkraut, a bar, and a lone elderly gent playing accordion inside the building. Outside was the beer tasting, a few vendors of things like tea and T-shirts (none of which were German-themed), a big tent, dance floor, and the band. The first thing we noticed was that the band was playing Mexican music. Eventually they found their way to a single polka, but it was too late. The illusion had already been shattered. This is what happens when you grow up in a town which has a stronger Hispanic presence than any other single ethnicity.

Meanwhile, my mom told me about her deep hatred of said polkas because every party/gathering ever held in her hometown in Ohio featured polkas, polkas, and more polkas. This is what happens when you grow up in a small town with a German population.

The band took a break, some traditional dancers came out (middle aged women and a mix of middle aged men and teenage boys) and played a CD of polka music while they did a few dances. The crowd watched with mild curiosity.

Mom and I left as soon as the dancers were done.

I definitely give the town points for trying, but I just don't think their hearts were in it. Though, I'm sure that changed as the evening wore on and the beer-tasting table got more traffic. Put enough beer in somebody, and anyone's ready to do a polka.

Only for Neil

2008-09-09T10:53:00.003-06:00

Neil Gaiman is going to be making an appearance at the beginning of October, and my friend Deb asked if I wanted to go.

Me: Go, see Neil? Absolutely.
Deb: Tickets are only $6 and he's going to read from The Graveyard Book.
Me: I am so there. When is it?
Deb: Six thirty, on a Tuesday night.
Me: Tuesday, huh? Well, I guess I might be a little tired for my 8:00 a.m. composition class the next morning.
Deb: And it's in Boulder. Still sure you want to go?
Me: It's Neil, I pretty much have to, don't I? (pause) I am so screwed.

So, I have no idea when I'll make it home that night, save that it'll be very, very late and I'll be waking up very, very early the following morning. Always a great combination.

Concern For Boundaries

2008-09-07T22:17:00.002-06:00

I had a conversation with an on-campus colleague recently. She's a keen swimmer and we had just found out the hours of availability for the pool.

Her: I could just grab my stuff in the morning, drive over in my jammies and swim laps. That'd be awesome.
Me: That'd be an early morning.
Her: (shrug) I'm used to getting up early to work out, anyway. I'd just be swimming instead of jazzercise.
Me: Sounds like you've got a plan, then.
Her: (slight hesitation) Though, do you think it ruins your authority if a student sees you naked when you're changing in the locker room?

I still can't think of a G-rated response to that.

Italian Club's Best Selling Point

2008-08-27T19:18:00.003-06:00

Today I spent an hour manning a table for the English & Foreign Languages Department for a campus fair. It was kind of quiet, and sunny, so I think I picked up a bit of pink. I sat there with another gal, A., from the English department, trying to entice students to venture into English-themed curricula.

A student walks over and looks at some of the flyers we have, she asks a few questions.
Student: Hey, do you guys have any information about if there's an Italian club?
A: Well, we're English people, so we're not really sure.
I pick up the list of foreign language faculty and scan it.
Me: Here, your best bet is to talk to Professor --, he teaches Italian, so I'm sure he'd know.
Student: Ooh, he's hot.
A: There you go, all the more reason to go talk to him.

A handful of minutes later, another female student walks up.
Student 2: Uh, do you guys know anything about Italian club?
A: No, but apparently we need to check it out.

The Problem With Weekends

2008-08-24T18:58:00.004-06:00

After a number of years of working at least part of the weekend, I suddenly find myself with Friday night, all of Saturday, and all of Sunday off. The last time that happened was some time back in 2003 or something. This weekend started off alright, I had plans on Friday night, and plans on Saturday. However, it doesn't seem to have been enough.

I spent some time online this morning, ordered a couple new The Tossers albums from Amazon, got a call from the credit card company to verify that my music was actually ordered by me, took my dog for an extra long walk, called my parents, watched a couple of movies, spent some more time online, wrote new blog posts, called my parents again, then my mom mentioned my brother and I decided I ought to call him too.

After the first few minutes of chatting with him, I confessed.
Me: This weekend thing is messing me up.
Casey: Yeah?
Me: I'm so used to setting my weekends by my shifts at the bar, so not waitressing at all this week is throwing me.
Casey: (chuckles)
Me: Here I've got all this time when I'm not working, and yesterday I kept thinking it was Sunday, and it wasn't, and now I'm hopelessly bored and by next weekend I'll probably be hunting people down just to have someone to talk to.
(I paused a moment here, to think about what I'd just said)
Me: You know, like I'm doing right now.

I have to assume that I'll adjust to the rhythm of my new bar-less schedule, but it may be a while. I guess I've still got time to go to the dog park.

Not So Mysterious Any More

2008-08-24T12:00:00.000-06:00

Ah, so disappointing. After showing the envelope to some friends, and much speculation about it, I still had no idea about it. This is not the disappointing part.

The disappointing part comes in when I was driving home and I realized that the best bet for Dave's identity is one of the guys working on my neighbor's roof. It fits the best. So much for mystery.

And no, I was never seriously thinking about calling. It was the mystery part that had my attention, and now that I've come up with a logical explanation, the whole thing has ceased to be interesting.

Who the [expletive] is Dave?

2008-08-22T15:32:00.004-06:00

I found something interesting this afternoon when I got into my car. Someone had folded an envelope in half and stuck it under the wiper blade. I didn't notice until I'd already gotten in, so I left it and drove across town with it on my windshield, trying, all the while, to figure out what it was doing there.

On the other side of town, I stopped for gas and pulled it out. This, my friends, is what I found:

All of a sudden, I have a mystery. Who is Dave? When did he stick the note on my car? Did he really mean the note for me and not for someone else whose car he mistook for mine? Where did he see me? Until this afternoon the only place I went was to the park with my dog, so did he see me there? Did I just fail to notice the note on the way home? Or, did he put it on my car when it was parked at my house? He knows where I live? Crap.

I feel very cheated in this whole exchange as I have absolutely no clue at all who Dave is. Granted, if I called, I could find out. Also, if I called, he'd probably have caller ID and thus get my phone #, and he'd probably be some skeevy chain-smoking guy in his fifties. Then again, the handwriting seems younger to me and I have a hard time imagining some old guy being nerdy enough to leave a note on my car.

Hrm, quite the brain-teaser.

I don't suppose you know who Dave is, do you?

Guy-Empathy

2008-08-21T18:16:00.004-06:00

Now, you all know that old joke about how un-observant guys are, right? I've gotta say guys, I totally empathize with you on that point.

L: So, do you notice anything different about me?
I look her up and down, trying to find a clue.
Me: Um... Did you change your hair?
L: No. I got a new bra. See how my tits are up higher?
She turns from side to side, demonstrating the, ahem, perks of the new foundation garment.
Me: Uh, if you say so. But, I gotta confess, I'm not really in the habit of checking out your rack.

I know she was excited and all, but did I really need to be a part of that?

There Are Repercussions of Not Getting a Tattoo

2008-08-13T21:41:00.003-06:00

I went to a get-together at a friend's last weekend, and met some of her coworkers. Among them were Holly and Lorenzo, a couple who met at work. I like them.

H: Look at his legs. Notice anything? See how nice and girlishly smooth they are?
Everyone admired for a moment.
L: Well, you see, here's what happened. I was going to get a tattoo today, so I shaved my leg where the tattoo was going to go.
He outlined a small rectangle on the front of his shin to demonstrate.
L: So, I shaved that part and as I'm stepping out of the shower, I realized it looked pretty weird to have just this little patch shaved, so I shaved the whole leg up to my knee.
Again, he demonstrated.
L: Then I'm getting out of the shower again, and I look down. So, I decide I better shave both legs so I don't look like a crazy person.
H: And he used my razor!
Lorenzo shrugged, then leaned down to stroke his legs.
L: The bad part is, my tattoo appointment got canceled, so I'm going to have to do this all over again.
H: Yeah, next time, use your sister's razor, okay girly-man?

Around the Campfire

2008-08-05T09:12:00.004-06:00

I was up in the mountains this weekend with my dad, not quite homeless vacationing, but close. On Saturday night, some neighbors stopped by. They're a couple from Texas who are in the process of having a cabin built and have known my parents for something like six years now. They're in their mid/late sixties and dad tells me they were high school sweethearts.

They visit for a couple hours, all of us sitting around the campfire while my dog barks intermittently at the cows passing by on their way to water tanks down the mountain, or at just anything at all that catches her fancy. As it cools off, Mary pulls on a pink sweatshirt.

She looks at me and winks.
Mary: Ron gives tells me I'm a panty-waist since it's pink.
Ron: Yeah, but you're my very favorite panty-waist.

The Truth About Camping

2008-07-31T14:07:00.001-06:00

Last night, while I was at the bar, Laura (whose shift I was covering 'cause it was her birthday) stopped in with a couple of friends. Their conversation was very entertaining to me, and quite scattered. At one point, camping came up.

Gal: I just don't get camping. I mean, we spend all this time and money on buying a place to live and paying the bills to keep living there, and then people go camping.
Laura: Yeah, I can't do tents.
Gal: I mean, come on. It's vacationing homeless! You don't have running water, electricity, or walls. You might as well just go live under the bridge for your vacation.

An Essential Question

2008-07-29T10:26:00.008-06:00

This weekend, a friend of mine was talking about a recent dating adventure I thought I'd pass along. The other night he went on a second date with this gal he met online. As they were talking, the following came up.

Her: So, have you ever been married?
Him: No. Have you?
Her: Yeah.
Him: Really, how old were you?
Her: I got married when I was twenty five.
Him: Um, aren't you twenty five right now?
Her: Yeah, my husband's in the army.

Of course, I did what any good friend would do.
Me: So, what are you doing for your third date?

Hangin' Out

2008-07-25T10:55:00.004-06:00

Last night I was doing exciting things, like cleaning the kitchen and peeling potatoes, when I get a txt from one of the Johns I know: "I'm having some people over, you want to come?" And yes, it was actually all spelled out, the freak.

What? Be social? OMG!

So, I put my potatoes away and got my car keys. When I arrive there are four people there, including a gal who's busy on a laptop. I soon discover that she's working on inviting people to her wedding.
Me: Congratulations. When's the date?
Her: September 10th. (she snorts) Nobody believes me, either, 'cause it's so soon and we just decided three days ago. Well, either that or they think I'm pregnant.

After a while she calls it a night and another gal arrives. She's quiet at first, but then she gets chatty, telling us about her adventures as a pastor's daughter. My favorite is when she was about five.
Her: I was really shy as a kid, and there were hardly any kids at the church. One time, during the night of the Christmas pageant, this woman came over and talked to me. I was so shy, I grabbed my skirt (she pantomimes) and pulled it up in front of my face, thereby flashing my underwear at the whole church. (pause) Ah, good times.

Meahwhile, one of the guys has mostly taken over the couch beside her and is in the process of falling asleep.
John: I guess I'm going to have a house guest.
Me: Well, you could at least get him a blanket. You know, tuck him in. Maybe give him a good night kiss.
John (to friend): Have you gone potty, young man?
Friend: (mumbles) It's okay, I haven't had any water. (shifts on the couch, getting into a more comfortable position)
John: I guess it's time for a bedtime story then.
But, by now he's all the way asleep and makes no reply.

I Came, I Cooked, I Conquered

2008-07-23T21:23:00.002-06:00

My parents are trying to use up/give away the elk meat in their freezer to make room since antelope season's coming up. As a result, I've got more red meat in my possession right now thatn in the whole of the rest of the year combined. It's funny. Part of the lot includes thin-sliced meat which is perfect for rouladen.

Me: I need to make rouladen. I got all the stuff, I just have to remember to thaw the elk.
Mom: You always talk about making rouladen. I'm surprised you make it, since it takes so much work.
Me: That's why I have to talk about it when I make it, so that people can acknowledge my achievement.

Ah, Wal-Mart, What Would I Do Without You?

2008-07-21T13:09:00.003-06:00

Sadly, I find myself short on eavesdropping lately. I think the key is that eavesdropping involves actually being around people, which I've also been short on lately. It's the middle of the summer and I'm chronically sitting in front of the swamp cooler at home, trying to talk myself into braving the heat to go out, and usually failing. I've been in a heat-induced hermitage.

So, it's good that I ran out of groceries and had to go to Wally World to restock on food. Saturday night is an excellent time to go shopping, and when I was checking out the bored cashiers were talking with each other.

Cashier 1: What's going on lately? Everybody's doin' bad.
Cashier 2: Beats me.
Cashier 1: Just yesterday, Vanessa was working one of the registers and she passed out right there.
(pause)
Cashier 1: And we were all standing right there, so you'd think we would have noticed sooner, but we didn't. Not until the customer said, "Uh, should we help her?"

Mixed Breed

2008-07-13T21:39:00.002-06:00

I have met a dog who is as big of a pest to mine as she is to others. His name is Chance. He's ten months old, about fifteen pounds heavier than she is, looks to have a bit of pit bull in him, and usually ends up pinning her, much to her dismay. It's fantastic. His owner is very apologetic about it and keeps reminding me to go ahead and manhandle him if he gets too rough. I just shrug and tell her he's no problem.

Guy: What kind of dog is that?
Chance's owner: He's a mix. Part asshole, part moron.
Guy: (laughs) That sounds like my friend Jonathan here.
Jonathan (who was too far away to hear the whole exchange): What'd you say about me?
Guy: I said you're like her dog, part asshole, part moron.
Jonathan: Well, I dunno 'bout that, but I'm a mutt alright.

How to Pick Up an English Major

2008-07-11T09:39:00.006-06:00

Here we are, folks, a gem of the interwebs, and the first post not to have been spoken, but rather pulled directly out of my social website inbox.

How are you?I wish that this mail will find U in a perfect state of mind and good healthy condition. I am ---, really I am new on this but I came across ur profile and am much interested in knowing more about you. I think you are the most beautiful lady have ever come across and also you profile goes along way to describe the kind of person you are.So lets take a chance moreover Love is all we need and all we want from life,who knows what may come out of it but at the very least,we will have a friendly conversation.Here is my email me, feel free to write me: -----

Regards
Guy from Florida

So, aside from the painful grammatical and syntactic errors (which I could ultimately overlook), there's the whole spam thing going on. Why yes, my profile does describe me, but that's kind of the point, isn't it? And how do you know if it does a good job? Oh, wait. That's right, you obviously haven't read it.

The best part? The dude actually has "lonely" as part of his username.

Love? Not this time, I think.

It Really Is Just Like the Bar

2008-07-10T10:52:00.002-06:00

Whenever we go to the dog park, my dog has got to meet literally every single human and animal who makes an appearance. Generally, this is a non-issue. However, some creatures don't want to be her new best friend, and this is when the relative thickness of my dog's skull becomes apparent.

Last night while we were there, a woman walks in with two kids (12-ish yr old son and 2-is yr old daughter) and a toy poodle. The poodle is, no joke, only barely bigger than my hand and I don't have especially large hands. My dog spots the poodle and charges up to make friends. The poodle does what most itty-bitty dogs do when being rushed by something that outweighs it by a multiple of ten: It barks, growls, and snaps. My dog thinks this is very entertaining. So, while the family makes their way toward another part of the park, my dog follows.

Sherman: Bark, bark (translates: run so I can chase you)
Poodle: Bark, growl, snap, bark (translates: leave me the hell alone)
Sherman does a kind of leaning down thing, stretching her front legs out on the ground with her butt in the air and jabs her face into the poodle's face.
Sherman: Bark, bark, bark (come on, run!)
Poodle: Growl, snap, growl (fuck off!)
The dogs keep up the exchange, with my dog playing the game of getting as close to the poodle as she can (especially her face) and then pulling back just before the tiny dog can bite her.

After a few failed attempts, I manage to get a hold of my darting dog and walk her in the direction of other dogs who don't want to murder her. When we're at what I judge a safe distance, I let her go. She immediately pulls a U-turn and rushes right back to the poodle. More barking, growling, and snapping ensue.
Sherman: Bark, bark, bark.
Poodle: Bark, bark, growl.
Sherman: Bark, bark.
Poodle: Growl.
Two-year-old: Inarticulate scream (make it stop!)

I get a hold of my dog again and this time walk her even further away and she finally lets herself be distracted.

My dog thinks everyone should like her. She's like the annoying drunk guy at the bar who single-mindedly keeps hitting on the waitress. One of these days, my dog's going to get a metaphorical tray of drinks "accidentally" spilled on her.

Well, I Tried

2008-07-05T12:02:00.006-06:00

A couple of days ago I splurged on myself and bought an iPod. Last night, I was IMing a computer nerd friend about it.

Me: I got an iPod.
Ben: Cool. How do you like it?
Me: It's awesome. I'm in the process of uploading all the music I own onto it. I have 4.5 days of music so far.
Ben: Not bad.
Me: It's taking forever, but I'm over half way done.
Ben: I have 47.6 days.

*Sigh*

(I'm all the way up to 4.9 days now!)

Different Strategies

2008-07-04T21:11:00.002-06:00

I ran into some regulars from the bar this afternoon while the dog and I were out.

Me: Hey there guys.
Rodney: Hi Ali, what's up?
Me: Oh, just trying to get the dog tired. Since it's the 4th and she barks like a psychopath when fireworks go off, I'm hoping to wear her out so she's too tired to go insane tonight.
Jay: Ha. I just get my dog drunk.

(P.S. I obviously didn't get her worn out enough. I'm actually starting to worry that she's going to give herself a heart attack. Seriously. It's crazy.)

A Dialogue Critique

2008-07-02T09:53:00.002-06:00

David: (on something he recently read) The woman talks and talks and talks. The man says nothing. Then the woman talks and talks and talks. The man says nothing. Then the woman talks some more. This goes on for eight pages. (pause) It was terrible. It was just like being at home.

You Know How It Goes

2008-06-30T12:55:00.004-06:00

During a slow night, I went behind the bar and did some dishes. This set me up perfectly to hear two mid-twenties guys have a pretty fuzzy conversation about girl troubles.

Guy 1: You can't keep bailing her out all the time.
Guy 2: Yeah.
Guy 1: 'Cause you know what they say... If you give a mouse a cookie...
(Long pause here, the guy is obviously searching his brain for the next bit. Searching really, really hard.)
Guy 1: If you give a mouse a cookie, you feed him for a day. But if you teach a mouse how to make cookies, you feed him for a lifetime.
Guy 2: Yeah. That's it exactly.

Hard Sell

2008-06-27T10:55:00.002-06:00

I have a policy of never answering my door unless I'm already expecting someone. From time to time, I break this policy. When I heard a knock on my door this morning, the thought crossed my mind that it might be my parents, both of whom have the day off, and I opened it.

The first thing I see is that these two ladies are strangers to me and that they're nicely dressed. Ah, they want to sell me something. The second thing I see is the book in the older one's hand. Ah, they want to sell me God.

(Note: I have no ill-will toward Christianity, nor toward Christians, but I do think that this kind of religious aggression is rude. The bottom line of the thinking here is, if you don't believe what I do, you're wrong. And all soul-saving aside, that's just ego.)

Well, it's too late now, I've already answered the door. Might as well see how it plays out.

Missionary: Good morning, we're talking with people today about reading their Bibles.
Me: (I make eye contact, but say nothing)
Missionary: The story of Noah is one we like to talk about because most people are familiar with it. Do you believe that the story of Noah is something that really happened?
Me: No.
Missionary: Do you believe in God?
Me: I'm an atheist.
She nods. This doesn't surprise her. I can see her mentally shift into a higher gear of sales pitch mode.
Missionary: Many people we've spoken to are atheists because they're frustrated with the church and organized religion. Are you angry with the church?
Me: No.

I continue to make eye contact. For one, it's the respectful thing to do when one is speaking to you, but otherwise I offer little because I feel no need to justify myself to a stranger. My demeanor is beginning to make her a little uncomfortable. I can tell she was expecting either agreement or disagreement. My neutrality throws her.

Missionary: And what do you think about the state of the world today? Do you believe there's hope for the terrible things going on? And, do you believe that there's a higher power we can turn to?
Me: I believe that people are inherently good, but I do not believe in a higher power.
Missionary: It's just a matter of getting people to actually do good. (She chuckles. It's a forced laugh and an attempt to win me over on something, anything. When I don't chuckle with her, she stops.)
Missionary: Now, most people can agree that Jesus was, at least, a great prophet...
Finally, she trails off, hoping for me to jump in. But, she hasn't actually asked a question, and unlike her, I feel no need to talk about my own religious views, so I remain quiet. At this point, she finally gives up.
Missionary: Well, you have a good morning.
Me: (with a smile) You too.
She and the other woman, who's been silent throughout the exchange, look at each other, turn, and make their way to the next house.

(Another note - Now, which is more "Christ-like": respecting people even if they don't agree with you, or refusing to accept someone unless they believe exactly what you do?)

I'm Not the Only One Who Finesses

2008-06-26T09:04:00.005-06:00

On the night when the flyboys invaded the bar it meant that we were suddenly innundated with about thirty young twenty-something guys. All with that clean-cut military look and physique. Good manners, too.

During the rush, Laura made a comment about them being the stuff dreams are made of, if she were ten years younger.

After the rush, but before the flyboys left, Brandi came in for her shift.
Brandi: What's going on here? Who're all these idiots?
Julia: Laura says they're the boys from her dreams. Her wet dreams. (She laughs and does a few pelvic thrusts for effect)
Laura: (bright red now) That's not what I said!

But, by now Julia has already turned and walked away and Laura's protests are in vain. Brandi can't stop laughing.

A Timeless Experiment

2008-06-26T08:56:00.004-06:00

A couple of weeks ago, while my parents were over painting my house, it was time for a break. My dad grabs a longneck from the fridge and goes out the back door. I go out to join him a few moments later and this is what I see: My dad sitting on the steps. Next to him is a small puddle which my dog is licking up intently.

Me: Dad. Are you giving my dog beer?
Dad: No.
He gives me his best innocent look. I look from him, to the puddle, and back again.
Dad: It spilled?
Me: You should be ashamed of yourself.
Dad: I just wanted to see if she'd drink it.
As he looks up at me, my dog finishes the puddle and moves to licking the mouth of the bottle itself. Dad yanks it away from her and she takes a step closer, trying to reach.
Me: See what you've done?
With a look of disgust, he wipes the mouth of his beer bottle with his shirt.
Me: Ha! Serves you right.

Mom Does Not Approve of Online Dating

2008-06-24T12:48:00.000-06:00

I'm sitting on the back steps, watching my dog trying to destroy a rawhide, and talking with my mom on the phone.

Mom: So, any other news?
Me: Well, I talked to the guy I met online last night. Instead of dating, we're going to be friends.
Mom: Good! Now you can meet a real guy.
Me: Right, 'cause he's just one of those fake kind.

Once Upon a Time

2008-06-24T12:20:00.001-06:00

Two principles of thought that are prominent in my life are the principles of synchronicity and culmination. The jist is that things tend to come together in strange and beautiful ways.

Once upon a time, I sat in a creative writing workshop and first heard the term "memorable speech," which is the key to writing good dialogue. An idea which was nicely articulated during a party scene in the fantastic movie How to Kill Your Neighbor's Dog, and which can be summed up by the following: people talk all the time, but most of what they say isn't that interesting. So, when you write a story/movie/novel/play and have people talking you have a fine balance to find between something that sounds authentic, and something that's not going to bore your audience.

Once upon a time, I became a cocktail waitress.

Some time after these two things happened, the seed for an idea was planted and a previously generalized blog gained new focus.

I started taking notes while working at the bar. When someone said something memorable, I jotted it down. Then I began making blog post after blog post sharing these memorable conversations with the world at large and greatly expanding upon my answer to Jenny's initial query about pick-up lines. And this is how two initially different aspects of my life converged. Then, I gave my notice at the bar and thought, "Now what?"

This blog is the answer to that question. I make two promises regarding all of my posts:
1. Every conversation/interaction documented is one I actually had.
2. Not every one of these will be precisely verbatim, because I'm the one telling the story and sometimes a little finessing makes it funnier.

Lastly, here's the meta bit for you - this blog is devoted to cataloging conversations, and in the act of writing it, I am effectively initiating a conversation with you, dear reader, and then as soon as you comment on a given post, you're continuing it. Which means, we're really having conversations about conversations. It's just like the stacking dolls.

Cool, huh?