updateish

moving in the right direction and out matched in a street discussion

I whined about work last night and I didn’t feel good about it today but the thoughts were all consuming like a mental wildfire. After my Zoom marathon I felt a little better as we headed in the direction of a plan. Nothing is resolved but I feel a hell of a lot better than the complete lack of things we were doing to improve our situation. What it means for me is most likely another move in my future. If we take HQ into the suburbs I will most likely follow. For what I pay here in rent I can get a townhouse with an attached garage or a small house if I want the compelte pain in the nuts associated with snow removal… I could barely type that. Townhome or apartment here I come.

So after that meeting I went out for a walk. I forgot how populated this place is with the wrong types of people during prime beggin time. It was 4:30 and every corner was occupied including some median work being conducted on the bigger streets. I took a weird route because I was on the phone walking and talking and before I knew it I was being propositioned. Flattering because my casual work clothes identified me as a mark, but ultimately disappointing for them from a sales perspective.

Very few things truly scare me but the exotic strains of gonosyphilaids brewing in some of these folks is right up there with heights. Nobody wants love bumps on their ding dong and I think if you interacted with some of these professionals you might consider yourself lucky to escape with that condition. They don’t sell thick enough protection. Tool dip, wait, I’m going to stop this train of thought and get back to the story.

So I respectfully declined a woman who had one remaining incisor. My grandfather used to call that configuration a “can opener” which I didnt understand as a kid due to being exposed to only the rotating clamp style that my mom probably bought at a Tupperware party. It wasnt until I watched him open a can of beans with an old fashioned model like a savage that I understood the single tooth disrespect. Anyway, after my polite refusal management wanted to have a word.

Pimp or boyfriend it all boils down to someone taking the money while someone else gets fucked. After he intimated that I was gay for turning down his “bottom bitch” I told him just that. I asked if the couple sucked or screwed every other customer to spread (weak pun unintended but aknowleged none the less) out the workload. He might have been too high to engage in banter but he won all arguements and shut me up by ignoring my comment and pitching me his secret weapon. “Wanna fuck a chick with a stump?”

I remember blinking and staring and having nothing to say. He repeated the offer more loudly because obviously I had a hearing problem due to my lack of response. I couldnt do anything but walk away. It wasnt until I was almost home that I snapped back into reality. so. many. questions. I think he yelled something as I walked away about not having lived until I tried it! At least I hope he yelled it because that thought was in my brain when I awoke from my walking daydream daymare.

It might be time for this guy to try a nice safe suburb for a while.