Thursday, March 11, 2004

I'm no good at pretending to like people. I either do or I don't, and there's no real in between if I come into contact with them for more than thirty seconds. I can be polite, I can even be friendly, but I can't pretend to like them. This makes serving difficult at times.

Had a dream this morning about one of the guys who works next door. His pregnant girlfriend was so angry with me for making out with him that she kept calling me "The Hawthorne Waitress." Except that it felt more like she was saying "The Evil Temptress." I tried to get dressed surreptitiously,* but I couldn't find all of my layers. It felt like I would never be able to put all of my clothes back on.

When I was a bit less groggy it occurred* to me that I am not a Hawthorne waitress, but a Division waitress. Now the seed is planted in my head: maybe I should make out with the guy who works next door. Sure, he's older--I don't know how much older--but he can get me free beers.

Then it occurs to me that I should maybe stop seeing the world in terms of people to date.

*it turns out that I know how to spell surreptitiously but not occurred.

Comments: Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home


February 2004   March 2004   April 2004   May 2004   June 2004   July 2004   August 2004   September 2004   October 2004   November 2004   December 2004   January 2005   February 2005   March 2005   April 2005   May 2005   June 2005   July 2005   August 2005   September 2005   October 2005   November 2005   December 2005   January 2006   February 2006   March 2006   April 2006   May 2006   June 2006   July 2006   August 2006   September 2006   October 2006   November 2006   December 2006   January 2007   February 2007   June 2007   July 2007   August 2007   September 2007   October 2007   June 2010   July 2010  

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Subscribe to Posts [Atom]