Saturday, August 23, 2008

She Might Be a Prostitute... and other ramblings tonight

I'm walking. I'm walking down a covered path, not covered by any manmade roof, but by a thatch of branches, shadowing the path from trees to the left and right. There's a small hut up the way a little. Men and woman are walking past me, behind me, in front of me. As I approach the hut, I see a table, a long legged, small surface table. It stands tall, at the back of the small hut. I can see plainly the book, as the day is warm and sunny, the light creeping through the branches of the trees into the open walls of the hut.

There's a book on the table. Its made of leather and parchment... its obvious its been man-made, but it has been beautifully crafted. As I open it, it strikes me as odd... this is a book... a book of... prostitutes? There are names of women of the night in this book. Many, many names. I recognize one of them. I know her! I know who that is! But certainly, she's not a prostitute? I mean, I would have heard of this... I would know this, right?

This can't be. This mustn't be. Not her. No. NO! I throw the book down, and race back down the path... I've got to find her... I've got to ask her... I've got to know, "Are you a woman of ill repute???" I've got to discover, "Are you a lady of the night???" I've got to find out, "Are you in the oldest profession???" And I've got to know why, according to the book, her prices are so cheap!

There she is... I'm going to ask her. But I see light. Bright light.

For some strange reason, The Lovely Steph Leann has turned the light on. Please understand, I'm exhausted, getting only a few hours sleep the night before... and I have to open at Starbucks the next morning. I've gone to bed at 10:30, intending on at least 6 hours of solid sleep... but the lamp wakes me up. I lift my head to look at my lovely wife, who, mind you, has come to bed maybe an hour after me... she looks at me and screams. Now I'm really awake. Completely awake.

"What the heck?" I ask. "What's wrong?"
"Uh... you scared me..." she says in a stupor
"Scared you? What? I've been in bed for two hours now... you came after me... how did I scare you?"
"You just... you just did... I dunno..." The Lovely Steph Leann struggles with comprehension for a minute, then turns the light back off.

You know how, when you're really tired, and you end up sleeping for only 2 hours, and you wake up still exhausted? Like, your eyes hurt, your arms are sore, you just feel like dying kind of exhausted. This was me after The Lovely Steph Leann turned on the light, screamed, stared at me, then turned the light off, and was asleep within five minutes. Not good times. Bad times, bad times.

And I don't know if she was a prostitute!!!


We were a part of the job fair at UAB, recruiting for The Happiest Place in the Mall. Dan, the Other Happiest Assistant Manager at The Happiest Place in the Mall, and Yours Truly set up a table, tablecloth, a few Mickey & Minnie items, and some applications. And we waited.

I had observed some of the other tables around the perimeter... there were about 34 or 35 other businesses that were also hitting the freshman and upper class pool of people, which is ingenius, because they are all in college and broke.

The McWane Center was a hit. They had the table in front of the door, so as you walk in, you see them, and many people went straight there. We were diagonal from McWane, so you passed by The Happiest Table in the Job Fair on your right as you came in the room. Across from us was Alabama Telco Credit Union, which, though they were nice, I gotta say wasn't the most entertaining, fun idea for a part time job.

Don't get me wrong, I think you do what you gotta do when the time arrives, but if I walk into the job fair such as these kids did, I'm looking at McWane, or The Learning Express (complete with their lot of fun toys on the table) or Ross Bridges Golf Course or something like that. The Credit Union, be it Alabama Telco or Legacy, cause they were both there, wouldnt be my first choice. And who wants to work at freakin' Newk's Express Cafe? Or Panera Bread? Or a dental office?

Victoria's Secret was there, and I'll be honest with you... if I ever walk into that store again, and they've hired some of the people that I saw apply, trust me, I will not want to think about women's underwear. Not in the slightest.

International students can't work off campus, so half of our morning was spent telling Habeeb and Ismish and Rjnrnwvn that we were located at the Galleria Mall, about 10 miles from campus. I'm not sure some countries actually know about vowels.

The result is that I've got 9 interviews on Monday set up. I expect a few of them to not show up, there are one or two that I'm hoping will work out cause they were awesome, and there's some that I could go either way on.


I did my first interviews for The Happiest Place in the Mall last week, and really, sometimes its just funny. One girl was so quiet, I had to lean forward to hear anything she had to say... "So what are your favorite Disney characters?"

"Oh, I likes Mickey. He's so fun..."
"What about your favorite Disney movies?"
(thinking, and it looks as if it takes effort) "I like Winnies the Pooh"
I then ask, "Tell me about your shopping habits. What do you look for in a store?" (now, I know she might not understand this question, so I clarify) "I mean, not really what you are shopping for, but what makes a store or shop stand out to you?"
(thinking again) "I like... I like to shop for shoes. And jew-ree. And clothes. And ak-cess-rees."
(pausing a second to remove the blue, fine point sharpie out of my eye) "Okay... well, give for me a great shopping experience you've had in the past. When you went shopping and was just made very happy with the whole time. What happened?"
(thinking again) "I like... I shop at May-says... and Pennies... And Sears--I love Sears"
(pausing again to pull the paper clips out from under my fingernails) "Okay, well, tell me what you think will be the most challenging thing about working at our store..."
(thinking again) "The register. Probably working the register."
(nodding, for once, as she gives a sensable answer) "Tell me what you think will be the most enjoyable part of the job?"
(thinking one final time, as this might be all she's got) "Um... probably the register"

She didn't get the job

You know, I want to like the Olympics... I really do. I mean, the gymnastics are unbelievable, even if they are a little creepy, and the track is awesome, cause its simply, "Who can run faster?" and the swimming is fun, because its simply, "Who can swim faster?" But overall, its hard to get all excited for most of the Olympics, because none of you... and I mean NONE OF YOU care about fencing, nor water polo, nor women's sand volleyball, nor the decathalon, nor the trampoline, nor handball except for every four years. And let's face it, you take out swimming and gymnastics, then you lose 58% of your chick audience.
Don't get me wrong... I love my country, and I'm proud of the fact that as of this moment, we've to 107 medals, and am second--and a distant second--to only China in gold medals. Michael Phelps? He's a beast, seriously. Possibly the world's greatest athlete, until we find another one who is just as good, next week.
But really, will you remember anything beyond Michael Phelps? Maybe, and that's a solid maybe Nastia Liukin, but only because of her name. I mean, who remembers Carly Patterson?
And is it just me, or did Nastia and Shawn Johnson's Gold and Silver medals feel tainted, as both have heavy foriegn influences? Nastia was born in Russia, and brought to the US but trained under Muther Rusha's reign of premature growth. Shawn Johnson was born here, grew up in Iowa and trained under Laing Chow, from China.
Which led to this exchange with Mikey Nipp over lunch:
Mikey: Nastia is kinda hot
Me: Yeah, but dude... she's like jailbait
Mikey: Oh no she's not. Shawn Johnson is, but Nastia is 18. She's totally legal, dude
Me: Oh yeah...
Did you know, though, that softball is coming out of the Olympics in 2012? The rumor is, because the US Girls have won the gold every single time since it was introduced in 1996, though they just lost this time. And no lacrosse, no rugby... but there's badminton and handball.
Personally, I think they should make MMA an Olympic sport, and have countries that don't get along face off. Can you imagine the scene when Russia's Olympic MMA champ Igor Krhrzaovic takes on Georgia's MMA champ, Viktr Lozrovich? Or Israel's Ismael Epstein up against Palestine's Mahmeed Amajendade? THAT would be something I'd be up for.
The Lovely Steph Leann is home. She's lying on the futon behind me, in the guest room here, and I'm web surfin'. On the blogsite here, comes Carly Simon's "You're So Vain". Whether we meant to do it or not, I'm not sure, but we both end up singing the first line...
"You walked into... the party... like you were walking onto a yacht... your hat strategically placed below one eye... your scarf it was apricot..."
Then, the next line. She sang, "With one eye in the mirror, you watched yourself go by..." and I sang, "With one eye in the mirror, you watched yourself cravat..." She looked at me, and said, "That's not what she's singing." I said, "It's something like that... I mean, I know its not 'go by'." She looked puzzled. "But that doesn't make any sense, does it? I mean, a cravat? That's a scarf, I think."
I replied simply, "Well, whatever it is, I know its not 'watch yourself go by.' I know that because that used to be the line I used, but I looked it up one day and found out I was wrong about that." And this was true.
She replied, "Well, I can't imagine she would sing 'you watched yourself cravat'. That makes no sense whatsoever." So, I turned to look it up. And the line? "With one eye in the mirror, you watched yourself gravotte..." I read the line to The Lovely Steph Leann, and she sat up. We both wondered... what's a gavotte?
Turns out, its a french dance of some sort. Apparently, in this context, it means pretentious or egotistical style of dancing.
You wanna know what else about this song, which is my Dave Hot 100 Ever? "then you flew your Lear Jet up to Nova Scotia to see the total eclipse of the sun..." stems from the fact there were 2 solar eclipses in Nova Scotia in the 70s. It's also noteworthy that Warren Beatty, who has been rumored to be the subject of this song, has a mother who lives in Nova Scotia.
And, when "I hear you went up to Saratoga, and your horse naturally one...", it refers to the Saratoga Race Course meeting held in late July, August and early September in Saratoga Springs, New York. The meeting is known to be frequented by the rich and famous of New York and other places on the East Coast.
I had some dreams, they were Clouds in My Coffee, Clouds in My Coffee...
And, finally... I'm behind the Box Office, at The Happiest Place in the Mall last week. Up walks three guests, one with the merchandise, one who apparently is her son, and another who seems like the son's friend.
She is buying some Tinkerbell pajamas, a Tinkerbell shirt and a little soft baseball with Tinkerbell on it. I chat with her for a moment, mostly about Disney and Tinkerbell, whom I admit I've got a cartoon crush on--she's silent, and 2D hot... and yes, I'm in therapy right now--and she tells me how she's loved Tinkerbell for years and years and years.
She pays with a credit card, and I ask for ID. The son pipes up, and says, "Wow, rough joint, you get carded here!"
And I smile and reply, "Well, you know, I have to make sure she's 21!" to which the mom grinned.
The friend looks bewildered. "You have to... show ID here to buy stuff?"
The son looks at his friend, with surprise, but I don't miss a beat, "Yep. You have to be over 21 to buy stuff here. It's the law."
The friend looks at me, then looks at the son, then back to me, and whispers to the son, "Really?"
I said, "Yeah... its to make sure you don't Tink and drive."
Thanks. I'll be here all week.


  1. I could have given you a million and one versions of that song that would be better than the version you picked. I was looking forward to hearing it so much while reading your blog that I had to go get the CD and pop it in and mute the blog. Sad..sad day David D.


  2. OH and btw...Was she a prostitue? That was shaping up to be interesting!!


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