28 July, 2010

Please note that I at least include some record titles in this post.

So, last night, I believe I celebrated a minor victory a little too heartily. Long story short, I wound up drinking wine (the last thing I should have been drinking before my double shift today) until 0200CDT, listening to Nevermind the Bollocks... with a lovely twenty three year old young lady from NYC. It wasn't hard to do, she had her choice between coming to my room to listen to records or hanging out on the patio with the Juggalo that checked in.

Pictured: The obvious choice.
Of course, only because this is still me that we're talking about, we ended the night with the awkward "just friends" hug, her thanking me because she couldn't remember the last time she heard the Sex Pistols on cassette, and I went to bed with dry boxer shorts. Moreover, I slept in my clothes because, you know, But what if she changes her mind? What if she comes back? I kind of want to look ready to hang out, right? But let me close my eyes f o r... jj uu ss tt... a... mmm iii nnn uuu ttt eee...
Charlie, you sodding fool. The bint* aint coming back to your room. She's right made her mind up, asn't she?
An ow would you ear er, then? Yer in the basement, fer-bloody-chrisakes behind two locked doors, no less, you is. Which door she gon knock on? The one at top of the stairs then in't she? Wit you behind the one at the bloody bottom? You wunt thinkin, were ye, ye right cunt. If ye was thinkin at all 'twas prolly wit yer dick, wun it? I cannae blame ye tho, we's all guilty of it at one point or anotter, lad.
Eyes cracked wide open to face dim morning light two minutes away from the alarm clock's staticky cry to the day. John Coltrane's Blue Train wafting through the room. I got up and took a leak, came back and threw the alarm clock back an hour to no avail. I lay awake and got up, again, two minutes before the loud static. Forced myself to do half of my exercise regimen - I started exercising yesterday to take some of this desk flab off of me and get my factory muscle back. I call it "20 & 20": Twenty push ups and twenty crunches. I used to have a set of dumbbells, too, that I used to go all Kevin Spacey on; Angie would leave town for a few nights and I'd get fucked up and lift weights all night.
I already eat plenty healthy with veggies nowadays, sometimes just do a day of vegetarian dishes because that sounds the most appealing sometimes. I don't buy that bullshit about cutting out carbs, though. Everybody telling you to count calories and eliminate carbs and get tons of protein. Fuck that, man.Holy mackerel. That bird I was up with last night just checked out. In the clear light (and clear head) of day, I don't regret retiring to separate bunks. Last night, though, if I may be so bold, I'd'a rode that big ass til Tuesday I tell you what. Nah, you know what? She still kind of reminds me a little of Lisa Ann. I'm just surprised - well, you know when you remember what somebody looks like? And then you see them again and they look the way you remember them but only kind of? Yeah. Like that.
You know what? Fuck it. I'd still ride that big ass til kingdom come; she wouldn't be able to walk a flight of stairs for two days afterward. Have her walk around all Jell-O kneed.
Don't tell me you don't what I'm talking about. You know, after you been - And then you get up to - And your knees feel like Jell-O? Yeah. Like that.
Anyhow, got up to the office and, it being Wednesday and the backdoor code changing, I got people flying into the fucking office as soon as I get the door unlocked, before I even fire up the computer. At one point I looked at the guys who just decided to congregate in the office and said, Alright, you guys are going to have to give me three minutes to get this place started up.
The first issue though, was a fine young lady with Amy Winehouse hair (and thankfully not an Amy Winehouse face), presently still on the couch, whom a guest had let in (an evictable offense in these parts) who wanted to check in. As soon as she opens her mouth, I hear she's Arrish as all get out - I see her name in the system and it indeed kicks off with an "O". I also see that she chose a 0700CDT check in. And that we had indeed contacted her with the standard form email that includes the check in times. Listed twice.
Nonetheless, she's dismayed when I tell her that check in is not until 1300CDT. I tell her that it's listed four times on our website, four times on our listing, twice in the email, and as many times as needed over the phone. (That means that she's been told at least ten times what time she can check in.) I tell her that we need people to check out before we can check anybody in. I tell her we need to do the housekeeping. After my lengthy explanation, she nods acceptance of her fate and returns to the living room where I told her she could wait.
She's here for two nights. I've already flushed my chances for this one down the toilet. Then again, there's always my hand and an active imagination.

* Is it wrong that "bint" is my new favorite word for the week?

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