| |
Reality of Relationships
It aint the way it could be. It ain't the way it should be. It is, just the way it is.
4/29/2004 05:41:06 PM
So are you just happy to see me or is that pizza on your blouse?
Somebody please stick a screwdriver in my ear. Phillips head-- standard-- star-- it doesn't matter... Ah hell go ahead and get another one a jab one in each ear! While you're at it, how 'bout drilling a half inch hole into my right temple too!
I just got back from one of those "Performing Arts" shows that RZ's school put on and frankly it was just more excitement than I can stand. Don't get me wrong, the kids did a fine job. It's just I wasn't much in the mood to sit through 112 minutes of band (oooommpah, pah, pah ooomph), chorus (teenagers and opera... ooooooo ain't we got fun!), and interpretive dance (imagine: "Up With People" amped up on crank... On second thought, it could have been hormones. Wonder?).
Of course RZ sparkled, as she always does. Unfortunately, her group was first up, so when she was finished I had another 109 minutes of "pure culture" to sit (in sheer amazement) through. I pondered excusing myself to go to the "restroom", then instead sneaking out to the alley behind the theatre to freebase something really high in carbs, or take my life. It didn't seem to matter which at the time.
Leslie said "Sit! Stay! Good boy." whenever she felt me trying to peel away.
I realize that unless somebody smarter than me starts a fire, or a riot... I'm stuck. So with over an hour and a half to kill, I do what everyone else was doing-- I blog. Not in the physical sense of course, but I try and work out the details of a post... This post. - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Yeah. But I can't drive... I'm not old enough." I tell her. Most of my friends would have had their ass kicked rather than admit that. Especially to her. She's a fox! She's AWESOME! H.O.T. and she just asked me out. Let me say that again-- SHE ASKED ME OUT!
" 's ok. Saturday night-- I'll pick you up. Here's my number." She says as she scrawls her telephone number on a piece of notebook paper. Oh my Gah-- Shit, she drew a heart around it. A heart. A HEART!!! It's just a heart, no big whup, right? That's probably just her thing, ya know-- like how she signs her name or something. Look at it though, it's a heart, with a curlie-q! GAH she is so HOT! Awesome HOT! What will our kids look like?!? But wait, maybe I'm too young to be tied down. All of this reels through my brain as a take her number.
"I'll call you. TONIGHT!!!" Oh great! Way to go Mr. Smooth. Why don't you just hold up your hand with your fingers spread apart and say 'Nanoo-Nanoo'-- dumbass. Jesus I couldn't look like a bigger dickhead if I tried. I'm like standing here just about to squirt on her leg warmers, maybe I should just mount her leg, and start humpin'-- like a damn dog and get it over with. Just be cool... Just be cool. Just as before, all of this reels through my head in a split second. "um, I mean, it's ok to call tonight? It'n it?"
I must've played "Just What I Needed" by The Cars 137 times over the next couple of days. The line that goes, "'Cause when you're standing oh so near, I kinda lose my mind." just seemed so right on. Given the magnitude of what had happened... what was going to happen on Saturday night, "The Cars" spoke to me. "Supertramp" just duhn't do it for me anymore. I'm moving past them. I'm growing up.
It's Saturday. 6:45pm. She'll be here in fifteen. God I'm nervous.
Hair's looking right. Wearing my good jeans, they're not Jordache, but they'll do. Got my blue button down on. I thought about wearing the yellow one, but decided against it-- to much of a statement, if you know what I mean. My Reeboks are clean. I'm ready for anything, and I DO mean ANYTHING!
6:55pm. Dang. Maybe I put on too much Polo? Mom, what you think? Do I smell too much? What's the difference between cologne and aftershave? Can you still use it even if you don't shave? Can I have some money? Th'nks dad.
Look! she's here.... In a Celica! She has her own car. A Celica. Yeah, that's the car I'd drive if I could drive. A Celica.
"Hey." She says as I get into the car.
"Hey." I answer back.
"Let's go to Godfather's, Ok?" She asks. Can you believe this. One of the top-est ten chicks in the whole g-dang school wants to go to Godfather's with me. Like on a date and everything! Shit I hope Ricky is there. That sum'bitch'll never believe me if he doesn't see me and Sheryl walking in together. Oh God please let'm see us. "Um, yeah, I like Godfather's."
We walk in past the "crowd". I do that bump up, nod, acknowledgement thing with my head to my friends-- cause I'm cool now. No need to speak to them--- cause I'm cool now. Just acknowledge.
We find our table, then get our pizza. As we're eating our pizza, I notice other people looking at us. Yeah that's right, it's me and her... Her and me. We almost an US, almost.
"You wanna go to Glen Echo?" She asks.
"What's Glen Echo?"
"It's out at the lake. We can go parking. You wanna go parking?"
"Uh huh." I say in a spellbound sort of way. Uh huh? Christ, I've been waiting on this my whole life and all I can say is "uh huh". Say something smart, make her want it, make her laugh, say anything, just don't leave it at "uh huh". "Yeah. Uh huh" Oh way to go there Fonzie. The foxiest chick ever just asked you to go "do the hootus" with her, and all you can do is grunt like you're from the "Land of the Lost". I am such a loser... How did I ever make it out of the womb.
She's driving. I'm riding. We're about to go parking. It's dark. I can make out her face from the blue glow of the dashboard. She is every bit of a nine. Pretty close to a 10. I hope I don't get there to quick... Just think about Ms. Weaver in Geography if that's about to happen.
"Come on back." She calls from the back seat.
0 to 30 minutes... First base.
45 minutes... Rounding first, got my eye on second.
She's so hot, she's sweating. Come to think of it I'm sweating too! It's hot as hell in that backseat.
45 minutes to 1 hour... Trying to steal second, but she's playing a good defensive game.
1 hour... oh God, the heat. The pizza. The anxiety. The lips.
"Uh, um, hang... hold... just, just a sec..." I'm trying to get her attention. While I try to get her attention, at that very moment, the pizza is making it's way up from my stomach. Yup, I'm about to wretch the entire contents of my digestive track all over the backseat of that Celica, all over myself and all over the prettiest, hottest, most awesome girl in the whole school. I turn my head away from her at just the right moment as I launch-vomit onto the glass of the back side window.
A minute or so later as I'm mopping up, I hear "...it's not the perfume that you wear, it's not the ribbons in your hair... I guess you're just what I needed..." By The Cars playing on the cassette.
I am officially no longer cool.
4/27/2004 01:06:39 AM
File this under "Odd and Random".
This link just came across my inbox a minute ago.
http://www.subserviantchicken.com/
Go ahead and try it. The chicken is at your command (he/she won't do porn though-- dang!).
4/22/2004 02:58:30 PM
In a pet store window this morning.
"You know they're gonna drive by us and think we're a couple of posers." I yell out to Leslie as I mount my bicycle. That bike that hasn't seen my butt in a couple of years, you could almost hear it wimper as I load up.
You see there was a huge write up in today's newspaper about the Tour de Georgia bicycle race that kicks off here next week.
That write up had Leslie salivating.
She been wanting to get back into biking, in a big way.
~| Side note |~ Before Leslie got pregnant with Rene Zellweger we were on our bikes more than we were off. Six weeks before the rabbit died we bought her a Specialized "Rock Hopper" mountain bike. She took that bike out on only one decent trail (m.o.e.) before it was stowed away on one of those red vinyl covered hooks upside down in the garage, for the "duration".
Back to today.
We're peddling our asses off.
I was feeling the burn. Hell, my muscles were screaming even when I was coasting.
We go around 5 miles then we pull into this little shopping center, to catch our breathe and have a drink of water.
As we pull up to a pet store to window shop, I catch my reflection.
I never realized it until that very moment, that in a bicycle helmet I look like a six foot tall penis in tennis shoes.
After that sight-- I think I might need to shave my goatie.
4/18/2004 10:19:57 PM
Old people shouldn't eat pizza with everything on it.
My eyes pop wide this morning at seven a.m.
I'm laying in bed.
Still.
Listening.
Listening for the impending storm.
Minutes pass.
I am still.
Leslie touches my shoulder and ask "are you awake?", I nod my head quietly.
It's now seven-thirty.
The calm before.
Seven-thirty-five.
Off in the distance, I hear something.
Seven-thirty-eight.
Thunder!
The storm has begun... Nope, not thunder after all, it's just my dad unloading all of his crap.
The Fable of the (Backporch) Reconstruction Part II is back underway.
My pop shows up this morning at 7:38, ready to work.
I'm still in my underwear. I answer the door yawning, scratching my nether-region, and picking crunchies out of the corners of my eyes.
"Hey old man. How 'bout a cup of coffee?"
"C'aint. Ain't got time. 'gotta get that roof on before it gets too hot." He's saying this to me as he rushing by me with a ton of tools and a portable air compressor.
He's tooling around ('scuse the pun) like a rat on acid. Trying to slow him down, I say "Dang Pop it's only going to be in the 70's today. No need to rush." He ignores me.
So I'm drinking my coffee as I'm watching the old man scale the ladder like a fireman. I guess I should feel guilty that he's up on top of the porch taking care of business while I'm still shaking off the morning ugly. But I know that if I give him that particular inch, I'll be paying for it the rest of the day.
Eight minutes, and two cups of coffee later. I'm up on the other ladder, in full battle gear-- blue jeans, tshirt, baseball cap, Fat Max attached to one side, my hammer to the other.
We're hammering our way into the morning twenty-five feet up on top of what are basically wooden monkey bars, when he looks at me slyly and says "I know this is going to scare you, but you're gonna be walking on top of this in a few minutes." To which I replied "Scare Me?! You think the thought of falling to my death scares me. I'll tell you what scares me... I'm scared you're going to launch another one of those grizzly, old man, farts of yours. God, will you let me know before you do that again? I walked right into the last one, and my face is still numb."
He smiles proudly, whacks in another nail then says "Pizza last night."
4/17/2004 10:37:00 PM
Bob Wins! (for those of you who haven't been here before, this is a multi-part post)
Ok Bob, you win! You made me say "uncle".
I get home and check my email a few hours after posting about the contest and it get hit with this! I laughed until a had spit strings. I laughed until I hurt.
So what's it gonna be Bob-- Shirt or Fez? Tough decision, I know. Shirt? Or Fez? (as the Jeopardy theme plays softly in the background) ______________________________________________
Now hopefully I'll be able to finish the initial story and I won't mind facing my blog anymore. The close to this damned thing has been like a rock that I couldn't move. Not that it's all that monumental or anything, I just realized well after I posted the damned thing that it was boring and it was old news. Anyway, here goes...
Actually, the gist of this story wasn't to bitch, moan and groan about how shitty the company had been.
That would've been to easy.
The reason I wanted to share this whole thing was that the company actually did something worth mentioning. Something completely "stand up". A real live commendable action.
(I'm going to really "brevi-tize" it) A few days after I sent the letter. I received a call from the district manager. A few days after that, the regional vice-president of the company flies in to apologize face-to-face. No excuses. No ramble-on bullshit. Just a true, sincere apology and a request that I stay with them (my choice... for free no less) until they worked through the problems.
The v.p.? Hell for all I know he may have been the janitor in a tie, but after all that time, after all the hassle somebody "Heard Me."
4/15/2004 12:17:42 AM
Letter to Crappy Cellphone Company --continued--
Sorry for the cliffhanger.
This has to be the longest, run-on, (not trying to sound self-depricating) boring post in the history of this blog! I didn't mean to write half of a post then walk away. Life got in the way of my blogging.
I liked Bob's contest idea.
How about we setup the contest in such a way, that whoever finishes the "Letter to Crappy Cellphone Company" post (the funniest or most creative) wins. The winner gets to choose from either a Krispy Kreme Doughnut T-Shirt or a fez.
Any takers?
Also, who wants to be the judge?
4/12/2004 01:34:01 PM
I think they finally heard me...
Usually I'm pretty passive.
I don't "nut-up" about many things.
If I get crappy service when I stop by Taco Bell I just chalk it up, and think to myself how big of an asshole I'd be if I had to work there, especially for minimum wage. Come to think of it, the only joy I'd have in a job like that would be finding new ways to piss people off. I would master the art of a shitty attitude.
Crappy job? I've been there. I've worked dead-end jobs that quite frankly sucked the humanity out of me. But, I can still remember the faces of the customers who went out of their way to be pleasant.
Now I go out of my way to make folk's (who work in jobs I know they hate), day a little brighter. I try to make real eye-contact with them, talk with them, listen to them, and wish them a "good day" (and really mean it) when the transaction is complete. It's surprising how a genuine smile can get you a extra helping of chicken fingers at Arby's.
Bad service from an employee is one thing. Bad service from a company, an entire company, a company that I'm contractually obligated to pay over $100 a month to is another.
This is about a situation I had with a cell phone company last year. And how, after I'd "had enough", I remedied that situation.
Here's the letter I wrote (in the most corporate vernacular I could muster) to the president of that company. The names and places have been changed. All changes are denoted by brackets "[--------]".
-------------------------------------------------------
[Mr. Big Bidness], President [Crappy Cellphone Company] [123 Main Street] [Corporate, NE 12345-6789]
February 10th, 2003
Dear Mr. [Bidness],
I am dissatisfied with my experience with [Crappy Cellphone Company]. Not only with the phone and the network but especially “who cares?” attitude of the customer care staff and the management.
The world and my business thrive on communications today, which is why I'm so upset with the service quality of [Crappy Cellphone Company] in Macon Georgia. Quite honestly, I'm furious about this issue.
Here is a timeline of events that will detail the problems I have been having.
December 21st 2002 - Visited the [Crappy Cellphone Company] store on [Lakeside] Drive in Macon, Georgia to purchase a new phone and switch my cellular service from Cingular to [Crappy Cellphone Company]. Before selecting a phone. I told the salesperson the importance of my cell phone then I asked the salesperson several questions about the different phones and the [Crappy Cellphone Company] network. I was told that the [wamma-lamma-ding-dong phone] was the best phone that was offered and that it would be his choice if he were buying. I asked him about coverage and quality of service and he said that because the phone could take advantage of the three-way network that I could expect 100% coverage statewide and the digital quality would be better than that of the competitors on their networks. I asked him if I could have a "couple of days for a trial period", he refused and said they're not allowed to do that.
December 21st 2002 - I bought the [wamma-lamma-ding-dong phone] ($100 rebate offered) - Paid: 206.67 (AMEX) - Bought accessories (earbud and leather case) - Signed a 2 year service contract with [Crappy Cellphone Company]. - Started experiencing problems with service immediately. Attributed problems to new network change over and my "newness" with the phone.
Late December/Early January (undocumented) - I made a call to customer service (*611) about the problems I was experiencing. I was told that the problems were probably due to the network change over and should clear up soon.
January 7rd 2003 – Called the local [Crappy Cellphone Company] number on several occasions to question them about the service problems. No answers on any of the lines dialed.
January 11th 2003 - I thought the original earbud that I purchased was one of the cause of the poor quality of service so I purchased an upgraded model. I mentioned to the sales rep at the time that I was having problems with reception and service quality I was told I must have been in a dead spot. No difference in service.
** Please note that I did not exercise the $100 rebate because of the problems I have been having with the phone. I thought if I had problems, then having the $100 rebate paid to me would complicate fixing the problems.
January 16th 2003 - While traveling on business in North Georgia I started having severe quality of service and drop out problems. I called customer service (*611) to register a complaint. I was told the problem would be looked into. I asked the customer service representative to give me a courtesy call back to update me as to what was found/done. I received no call back.
January 24th 2003 - I called the toll free number to complain again about the problems I was experiencing with the quality of service and dropouts. During the discussion the customer service representative put me on hold to get the supervisor to discuss the situation with me. During the conversation with the supervisor she suggested a three-way call that would include the technician from the Macon store. During the three-way conversation, I was asked to come into the company store to have my phone looked at. The technician said he was sure the problems I were experiencing were related to the unit and not the network. In another effort of goodwill I came into the company store and allowed the technician to test my phone. After a few minutes of working with on the phone the tech gave me the phone back and said it was fixed and that I shouldn't have any more problems. Before I left the store I asked him give me a test call, he obliged and when he called, the phone rang, I answered but he couldn't hear me on the other end. At this point he took the phone again to examine it. He couldn't determine what the problem was so he wrote an order for a new phone because the old one was "beyond repair". When I turned in the order to the sales rep at the front desk he gave me a new phone without any of the packaging. Satisfied my problems were over I discarded the packaging of the original phone.
January 31st 2003 - Still having problems with the quality of service and dropouts and very frustrated at this time I called customer service (*611) and started explaining the problems I have been having to the customer service representative during the rep stated that [Crappy Cellphone Company] had the CDMA network in place in Macon and I couldn't be having any problems. Then the rep put me on hold to go and get his supervisor, while on hold I experienced another dropout! I waited for several minutes for the rep to call me back, which never happened. So when I got to a landline I called the toll-free number back and explained everything again to yet another customer service representative who put me on hold in order to get his supervisor. This time I spoke with Melinda. I told Melinda I was extremely dissatisfied and "wanted to wash my hands of [Crappy Cellphone Company]". Melinda offered me a free month of service to stay, I told her "no, I want out of the contract and I want a refund on the phone". Melinda told me that she couldn't authorize anything like that. She said she would get with her supervisors after they got out of a meeting, explain the situation to them and have one of them to call me back. I gave here my home phone and my wife's cellular phone number just in case. No one ever called. Before we hung up I asked for Melinda for her direct phone number to call her if I had any problems. She gave me [555-555-5222 extension 5555]. I repeated the number back to her: [5-5-5-5-5-5-5-2-2-2]? She verified that was the number. The next week when I called the number it had been disconnected.
February 3rd, 2003 - I had a friend get in touch with [Honey Child] who works with [Crappy Cellphone Company] (National) and explain the situation to her and see if there was something that could be done. [Honey Child] called me and convinced me to stay, that soon all of the network issues would be worked out and I would really appreciate the service in the long run. She mentioned that she preferred [sing-song] phones to the [wamma-lamma-ding-dong phone] and that if I were to try the [sing-song] I would surely have better luck. She said she would contact the store manager and setup a demo of the [sing-song] model [B654].
February 5th, 2003 - Visited [Crappy Cellphone Company] company store on [Lakeside] Drive. Spoke with [Cletus] (store manager). [Cletus] gave me a [sing-song] model [B654] to try.
February 5th - 6th, 2003 - I used the phone ([sing-song]) on several occasions. [Crappy Cellphone Company] service dropped out on at least 3 occasions that I documented. The service failed twice at my office on [Poverty] Avenue and once in my neighborhood (North [Ghetto] Circle) on my ride home. I decided that I would keep the phone, and try and live with the service until it improves.
February 6th, 2003 – I visited [Crappy Cellphone Company] company store on [Lakeside] Drive. After waiting for several minutes I spoke with Sheila at the customer service counter. After several more minutes (and other customers) Sheila said that [Cletus] said I needed to provide all packaging for the [wamma-lamma-ding-dong phone] in order to exchange phones. Not ever receiving the packaging on the exchanged [wamma-lamma-ding-dong phone], and throwing away the original packaging of the phone I bought on December 21st, I knew this was going to be one more hurdle in trying to get my problems taken care of. I left the company store angry and wishing more than ever I had never left Cingular.
February 7th, 2003 - On several outgoing calls I couldn't get cellular service at my home.
February 8, 2003 – Called the store today 4 times to try and get [Cletuses’] last name in order to be able to send him a copy of this letter. No answer.
In summary, I am dissatisfied with my experience with [Crappy Cellphone Company]. Not only with the phone and the network but especially the lack of concern of the customer care staff and the management. I'll definitely tell other people about my negative experience so they can avoid [Crappy Cellphone Company] in the future.
Here's what I'd like to see happen: I want out of the two-year contract and a full refund on the [wamma-lamma-ding-dong phone], and half refund on the service I have paid for since December 21st 2002.
Call me with any questions or concerns [478-555-0800].
I'll expect a response within 10 business days.
[my humble signature]
Mark [R80o]
cc: [Queen Elizabeth], Executive Vice President - Customer Care Cingular Wireless 5565 [Paved with Gold Street] Atlanta, GA 30342
[Crappy Cellphone Company] [Cletus] (store manager) [290 Lakeside Drive] Macon, Georgia 31204
Enc.
-------------------------------------------------------
After months of patience, and months of following their protocol I finally had stated my case to someone who I figured would want to know about it.
I'll let you know on the next post what the outcome was.
4/9/2004 12:18:19 AM
Another Neat Web Toy
This is another one of those wonderful timewasters. Although, I could see it putting alot of police sketch artist out of a job.
Flash Face
I tried to do a self portrait with it and wound up looking like John Wayne Gacy. Scared say scared!
Just for the record-- I DO NOT LOOK LIKE JOHN WAYNE GACY!
(If I remember correctly I think I need to thank Greg at Scam City for the link)
UPDATE: I just tried myself with dreadlocks... I look like Adam Duritz from The Counting Crows. Frankly, I kinda like that look. Now can somebody tell me how to grow dreads?
Another UPDATE: I took off the dreads and the goatie, then added a spike... I now look like Beaker from the Muppets. Meep, Meep, Meep!
4/7/2004 08:11:07 PM
Time Changes
We made it back.
Clearwater was as beautiful as ever. Actually it was like walking around in a terrarium, plants that you'd normally see growing in a upscale greenhouse were just growing wild there. For some reason I noticed the plant life moreso than the bikini life this time. Come to think of it, I only saw one bikini the whole time.
As I predicted, there was no "wonton", primate inspired, smooching. And definitely no "wanton", primate inspired, relations neither.
Side note: "Wonton"... "wanton"... Who knew? Ok probably everyone else but me. Thanks to TCWH and FSG for pointing out that there is a difference.
This brings me to this point...
I've admitted before that I'm not the sharpest of marbles.
Given that, if you see typos and/or a grammatical errors that scream "Hey Mark, you're an idiot!!!" Please let me know.
I'd appreciate it.
This blog is probably the only inheritance RZ (BTW, this is Rene Zellweger for those of you playing Kamikaze Lunchbreak's game) will get and I'd like for it to be somewhat intelligible. Now back to your regulary scheduled post...
Anyway, we were sitting around the dinner table Saturday night carrying on a conversation that spanned at least three generations when Leslie announced (prophetically I might add) "Time changes tonight!"
Those two words, "Time Changes", stuck with me the rest of the trip.
There was a time when Tommy (the uncle) was a boxer in the Navy. A time when he was the most gregarious man on the planet! A time when his personality could warm the coldest of hearts.
That time has changed.
Due to a stroke four years ago, Tommy is now a shell.
His mind is still as sharp as ever. His body has shut down.
Back then, he and I shared a friendship in spite of our 45 year age difference. Now we share that same friendship in spite of his stroke.
There was a time when Trudy (the aunt) was the hottest thing in a swimsuit. A time when she turned a wrench "for the war effort". A time when she could drink any man under the bar at the "Legion". A time when she was the envy of her friends because she and Tommy were "well off" and they traveled often.
That time has changed.
Now, she is Tommy's survival. She literally is his physical being.
Trudy is fading into Alzheimers.
All of her beauty, all of those amazing memories and all of her love is slowly being lost to time.
Time Stands Still.
On another note. Time stands still.
On the way down to Clearwater, Leslie received a call from her friend Janice. Janice was in tears. Their mutual friend (Julie) had just lost her husband in an airplane crash.
At the moment of that crash, Jud Brinson will forever be thirty-five years old.
At the moment of that crash, Jud Brinson will forever be a young husband.
At the moment of that crash, Jud Brinson will forever be the father of a beautiful, two year old, little girl.
At the moment of that crash, Jud Brinson will forever be the: friend, soldier, pilot, man that others knew him as.
Time Changes, Time Stands Still.
4/6/2004 10:52:24 AM
It's going to be a pure smoochfest...
Leslie and I are headed for a long weekend in Clearwater Florida!
Yup, we're leaving town early Saturday morning.
We spending 72 hours together.
Just she and I...
Oh, and her 85 year old uncle and 82 year old aunt.
Needless to say there'll be no wonton, primate inspired, sex this weekend.
Well not in our room anyway.
I can't speak for the aunt and the uncle.
4/1/2004 09:56:23 PM
|
|
|