Friday, September 11, 2009
I never know if I’m supposed to say something like “happy September 11th!” I guess happy probably isn’t the right word to use, but saying “sad September 11th” sounds slightly weirder so I’ll stick with the former. Today after work I went shopping for a suit and then out to work the bar/club scene. I learned it’s tricky to flirt when you can’t lie.
9:00 – 11:00
LAME ALERT: Nothing much went on during the early work hours. The exception being that a couple of co-workers asked me what I was doing this weekend.
12:00 – 13:00
Had a little bit of a run-in with the boss. I received an email from him, also sent to a couple of co-workers, about a networking event coming up soon where we can meet vendors, clients, and prospective clients. I told him the date conflicts with a previous engagement that I notified him about months ago. We’ll call my boss Tom.
Me: Hey Tom, about this event…
Tom: It’s going to be great. I always love these.
Me: Yeah, I’m leaving town that night. Remember I took those vacation days? I’m working that day, but that evening I’m out.
Tom: Oh. I see. I understand.
Me: I suppose I can go though, at least for a bit, and leave a little early. [Fuckin' honesty.]
Tom: That would be great! It won’t put you out though, will it?
Me: I’d really prefer not to go at all, but the timeline can fit with my schedule if I leave about 1.5 hours before you said it would end.
Tom: You sound like you don’t want to go… yet you’re making all this effort to go?
Me: I don’t want to go. At all. But you’re the boss. If you want me there I’ll move things around and be there.
Tom: Hmm, well, if you don’t want to go then you don’t have to go.
Me: I don’t.
Tom: All right then.
I didn’t want to go, though these events are helpful and I realize that. I did, on the other hand, feel compelled to let him know that I could make the event, if only for a little while. I left an opportunity for him to implore me to attend, and he didn’t, so I guess I won’t.
13:00 – 14:00
I was supposed to have lunch with a friend but he called and bailed on me. I told him he was being a prick. I felt like I was in the mood for pasta so I walked to this little bistro and had a spaghettini bolognese. On my way back to the office I see one of those bloodmobiles. Anticipating them, I started looking around for the nurses so I can avoid them. Before I could find one, one of them finds me. She asks if I would like to donate blood. I say no. She asks why not, and I actually muttered, “the balls on this one.” Right after realizing that I said that I started to laugh. I think I looked insane. When I stopped laughing I told her I didn’t want to donate blood because there’s nothing in it for me. She said the feeling I would get knowing that I helped save a life is an incentive, and I responded with, “maybe for you, but the only feeling I’d have is lightheadedness. No thanks.” I kept walking to my office.
14:00 – 18:00
LAME ALERT: Nothing to report. I did leave work a bit later. I wanted to tie up all the loose ends. I don’t like leaving for the weekend with code I’ll come back to asking myself “what was I trying to accomplish here, exactly?”
18:00 – 20:00
LAME ALERT: Went home, took a shower, played the piano for a bit.
20:00 – 22:00
The little sister and I went to the mall. I wanted to buy a suit and she loves to give her opinions on any wardrobe purchases over $500. We went to Nordstrom first and the gentleman in the suit section had this shark-like “I really want to sell things” look in his eyes. He asked me if I needed help and I responded with, “yes, do you guys have slim-cut suits?” Excitedly, he says, “of course! We have Hugo Boss, Versace, Armani, Dolce, blah blah. You’ve got a great body for Boss… follow me.” Being the wise-guy that I generally am I said, “didn’t Hugo Boss make uniforms for the Nazis?” I found this ironic because the mall we’re in is in Aventura, inarguably the most Jewish part of Miami. The guy was like, “did he? Huh, that’s interesting.” The whole time he kept talking, and talking, and talking. I don’t even remember precisely what about, he just said words. I tried on a Boss jacket. God damn that fit great. Say what you want about the Nazis, those guys dressed sharp. I told him I liked the fit, my sister agreed. I then asked him if there were any other stores that sold these suits and he said, “I think Bloomingdales does [think = know], but our tailor costs are lower than theirs are.” Good enough for me. I told him I’m going to go to Bloomingdales because he talks too much and I’m annoyed. That shut him up; he was taken aback. On my way out my little sister asked if that was necessary, I told her it was the truth.
On our way to Bloomingdales which is on the opposite side of the mall, I started sensing that my sister was on to the whole truth experiment. She didn’t come right out and say it, but I could tell.
Sis: Since you seem to be on this whole brutal honesty highway what do you think about her? [She pointed at a girl walking toward us on the opposite side]
Me: Too short.
Sis: Her? [Pointed at another]
Me: I don’t like her hair.
Sis: How about her? [Another]
Me: She’s pretty hot.
Sis: Go talk to her!
Me: Nah, she’s hot, but not my type. I can’t explain it.
This went on for the duration of the walk. We arrived at Bloomingdales and made our way to the men’s suits. An employee I’ll call Dan walks up to me and asks if I needed any help. I told him I’d like to be pointed in the direction of the “Nazi suits, please.” He looked at me confused, I explained the joke, and he laughed. Cool, sense of humor. I saw the exact same Boss jacket I tried on earlier and put it on, 40L. Sharp. I was already wearing black slacks, a shirt, and a black tie so it looked complete. Dan said I looked fantastic, but they’re paid to say that and I told him so. My sister said I “looked hot” but she’s my sister and I’m not trying to impress her, I told her that too. I saw two women walking past, so I stopped them and asked for their opinion. After they got over their stupid giggle-fit they gave me their opinions. One of them was in her 40s and the other looked like maybe 20, so I told the older one her opinion didn’t matter as much as the younger one. Guess the reaction. I ended up buying that suit and got free tailoring (suck on that, Nordstrom) which means I’ll pick it up Sunday. Dan said if I spent $1,500 they’re having a sale which would knock off $500 and I get a gift bag with $300 worth of stuff such as a DVR [wtf? really?], some ties, cologne, and “other goodies.” He said I have until the 16th to spend $500 more to reach the $1,500 and I get a rebate for $500 plus the bag, so I would essentially be spending $0. I told him I’d think about it.
Walking back out my sister played the “what do you think about her” game again. One of them, which we’ll call Boobs, I did like. She walked into a Forever 21 so we went in there. My sis went her own way browsing through the store and I approached Boobs. I don’t remember exactly what I said as my opener, but I do remember it was lame, it was something about how long the checkout lines are when the store is closing in 10 minutes. We made smalltalk, which was going fine, and I remember saying something insensitive about what she picked out. I believe the word “tacky” was used and she crossed her arms. I wasn’t going to be able to dig myself out of the arms-crossed position without lying in the very limited time I had before the store closed, so I just pushed through, “you need to get something that accentuates your breasts, similar to what you have on now. It’s why I noticed you.” I’ll spare you the rest; I failed.
22:00 – 0:00
I got a text from both Mary and the girl I met at the grocery store that I mentioned speaking to her on the phone on Tuesday, I believe. Let’s call this one Cristina. Both texts asked what I was doing tonight, Cristina’s also included that she’s free Monday and Tuesday night, which means I’m definitely going to see her one of those nights. I told them I was out with my sister and meeting up with a couple of friends at a hipster club Downtown. No response from either of them, I’m thinking I should’ve asked if they wanted to come along, ah well.
I also receive a call from a girl, who I suspect I’m in the friend zone with now [I suspected it before the conversation we just had], about her birthday party tomorrow night and how she would love it if I went. We’ll call her Melissa. I told her I would love to go, but not as a friend, and that I couldn’t go anyway since it’s my friend’s bachelor party. She actually gave me a guilt trip over it. I said, “we could be dating for 3 years, it could be our 3-year anniversary AND your birthday tomorrow, and I would still skip it to go to this bachelor party. Those are the facts.” It’s a shame, because Melissa is hot. I mean, HOT. She’s the kind of girl that is tough to date because she’s very outgoing and has guys fawning all over her day and night. I feel like you have to keep up with her and always be on your toes. Anyway, that’s beside the point. She didn’t seem too happy about me saying I have no problem skipping her birthday to see some strippers tie my friend to a chair and rape him.
My sister and I had a quick meal then headed to the club.
At the club we get there before our friends, but we mingle a bit and meet some people. Together we can work any crowd. We work so well together, she’s a great wing. I said mean things to one of the guys in the group of people we were chatting up, however I’m pretty sure he was drunk/high off his ass because “you look like Eric Estrada from Chips if he had a meth problem” didn’t piss him off. In fact, he loved it.
0:00 – 2:00
The rest of the night consisted of talking to strangers. That’s pretty much all I did for two hours. I would say I approached somewhere between 40-50 people (both men and women, I like talking to strangers) during that time, just to make conversation. I learned that in order to maintain a favorable social interaction with strangers YOU HAVE TO FUCKING LIE! Really, there’s no other way to put it. While honesty is cool and all, the problem is the other person you’re speaking with is probably going to lie to you, even a tiny one, and since you’re being honest if you can spot those lies you’re going to call them on their bullshit. This makes people uncomfortable and it makes you look like a dick. Some of my conversations that night went fine, others turned sour very quickly, one of which started feeling aggressive so I just walked away from it. The girls whose numbers I got seemed very relaxed and honest, but that was 4 out of 40-50. We’re talking around 10% here.
I know that sounds like common knowledge, and it is. One thing is to know it, another is to try it out for yourself and actually see the reactions first-hand. Awkwardness ensues.
2:00 – Sleep
LAME ALERT: I was tired by two so I headed home, showered, and slept. But hey, I got 4 numbers, if they’re not flakes this will make for some fun entries if we go out.
