Sunday, October 31, 2004

Get on an Elevator

...with a drunk person.

Now THAT is fun times.


Especially when it is just you and the drunken guy and his down-to-earth friend.

Really cool.

Well, let's just cut to the chase and I'll tell you the most INTRIGUING conversation I've had in awhile:

(Enter Elevator)
Me: " he alright?"
Drunken Guy [DG]: (Snaps out of his stupor for a second) "Dude! I was did I get here? I'M ON AN ELEVATOR??!!??!!"
Cool Friend [CF]: "Erm, you fell asleep and I carried you on here..." (He looks at me and rolls his eyes as if to say, 'No, I didn't, but play along')

Me: "Ah, of course."
DG: "WOAH!" (Realizes I'm apparently on the elevator also) "When did you get on here?!"
Me: "About two seconds ago."
DG: "Cooooooolll..." (Stumbles over to the elevator buttons) "What are these for?"

And of course, he presses the number 14 button JUST as we were passing it. The elevator lets off a squeeling and grinding noise, stopping on a dime apparently. The doors open, and the "DG" (Drunken Guy, for those who have alzheimers) steps out of the elevator and calls stupidly...

DG: "Hey! The elevator is here!"
Me: "You know, somehow I get the feeling no one is coming on..."
DG: "Bastards..."
CF: (Stiffles laugh, trying very hard to keep a straight face; throws me a look)

Me: "Is he okay?" (I'm talk to the cool friend now)
CF: "Oh yes." (Gives DG an impatient nudge in the ribs)
DG: (Snaps out of another drunken stupor; suddenly says) "WE NEED TO GET OFF HERE!!!"

(The Drunken Guy [DG] jabs the 10 button, and again with the squeeling and abrupt elevator stop; my knees buckle slightly)

Me: "Gheezus!!!"
CF: "I'm really, really sorry about this...really...I'm..."
DG: (Steps out of elevator, calling up and down the hallways again) GET THE F*$K IN THE ELEVATOR YOU SLIMY BASTARDS! WE AREN'T GONNA' HOLD IT MUCH LONGER!!!

Me: "Oh dear God."
DG: (Steps back into the elevator) "The NERVE of these people!"
Me: "Yeah, dammit. I mean, WHY are they playing games on us?"
DG: "Dunno'..."
CF: (Let's out a loud snort, covers mouth and throws me another look, eyes watering)

Me: "Hey, I think number 6 is a good floor..."
DG: "You're right" (Jabs the 'Floor 6' button)
CF: "You know man, I think she was just kidding."
(Elevator stops smoothly on floor 6)

DG: (Steps out of elevator) "COME ON PEOPLE!"
Me: "Oh this is going to be fun."
CF: "What? Oh please don't mess with him...don't you see he has enough issues?"
Me: "What the hell...?"

I step out of the elevator and realize that he is yelling at an innocent girl in the hallway. She's on her cellphone, completely ignoring the person on the other end and just staring at the DG with her eyes as wide as golf balls. I hurry over...

Me: "I'm really, REALLY sorry. He's...he's just, you know!"
Random Girl: "Yeah, I know."

(Back in Elevator)
DG: "I can't BELIEVE her. Hitting the button and pulling a prank like that" (he looks seriously pissed, but I'm sure he won't remember this in the morning...)
Me: "Yeah, sheesh. I mean, I don't know why she couldn't have taken the stairs, ya' know?"
DG: "Yeah...Hey (Sudden change of mood) ...thanks for saving me back there. I don't know what I would have done without you...I really appreciate it."

(Wait, did I save his life or something?)

Me: "Erm...No problem...I think."
CF: "Yeah, thanks for saving his life." (Says sarcastically, gripping his drunken friends' shoulders.)

DG: "You know what?"
Me: "What?"
DG: "You are HOT!!!"
Me: "Awww...Thanks."

The elevator doors slide open on the first floor finally, and that's the end of THAT conversation.

This Halloween weekend couldn't have been any better. Gotta' love the elevator rides and the random drunk people!

I bet he's going to have one HELL of a hangover tomorrow morning.

Good luck to you, Random Drunken Guy!

Oh, and Happy Halloween everyone! :-)

Monday, October 25, 2004

Dear Noteworthy College Student,

Today I am rather annoyed, and you are not helping matters any.

While I am standing here, wrapped in a towel and holding my shower caddy precariously, you are taking all of the time that you need to take a shower. I would appreciate it if you could please speed up the process of shampoo to conditioner just for today and get out.


Oh and just for your information, you are also taking up my favorite shower.

I'm sorry if a sound bitchy, but I really don't want to go to class today smelling like the ass of a pig. You know, I never really see you taking a shower at this time. So why you picked this time out of 24 hours today, I'll never know...

Finally, a shower!

Unfortunately, it is not my favorite shower that you are still in you pig-ass, but I'll get it tomorrow, so don't you worry...

Oh my gosh, how is this possible?!

You are still in the shower, and I am finished. What is taking you so long?

By the way, it also isn't helping matters any that your disgusting water is splashing all over my precious clean feet that I've dried off about 27 times since I turned off my water.

Could you please keep your "shower-excitement" to one stall?

I was also having trouble keeping the top half of myself dry until I looked up and saw water splashing over the top of your stall as well. What is going on in there?

Hope to hear from you soon! (Ha, ha)


Thursday, October 21, 2004

Take a Leaf Out of My Book

Man, this is INSANE! What is WITH these people at the library? Do they have it in for me?

It was so weird; whatever started, as a normal day didn't certainly END like a normal volunteering day...

* * *

It was warm where I was working today. Not too warm where I was sweating and having to unstick my boobs with a crowbar, but warm enough to where I was rolling up my sleeves to my hoodie I had dawned myself with on that day.

I'm pushing the normal "roll-able" shelf of books around, putting them all back in the proper order. As I was nearing the end of the books I had upon the moveable shelf, I noticed one of THOSE books. It was bright green and bound in straight-back leather. The gold lettering was peeling off slightly, but the book itself was still in 'mint' condition.

Oh yeah, did I mention it was also roughly the size and weight of a young killer whale? Must've slipped my mind, although at the time the book had to have it's own shelf it was so damned big.

This book, obviously, went on the 'Oversized' shelf. WAYYYYY in the back. Some employees called it the "Death Hall".

Naw, just kidding, but it sure as hell LOOKED like a Death Hall. With the bookcase at the far end of a narrow hallway and only one single row of lights to light up the whole thing.

It was not a pretty sight.

So I go back there quickly, throwing all of my weight against the cart to get it rolling. (I swear it needed memento to move. You know, like a semi?) As I get about 5 feet away from the shelf I hear a
"R-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-p-p-p-p!!!" coming into my hearing range. I stop the cart so quickly it sounded like nails on a chalkboard for a few seconds. The ripping stopped abruptly; the silence was deafening.

Now I was on a mission. I edge down the hall, coming closer to the "Oversized" bookshelf in the back. I peek around the "19th Century Dictionary: Complete with Pictures!" on the 'Oversized' shelf and see a short guy sitting in a chair. At first I didn't realize that someone was actually SITTING there; he was that short! Poor guy...I wonder if that means everything is in proportion...


I couldn't really get a good view of him at this angle, so I crept around the Killer-Whale-Sized Books and came to a stop right out of sight on his right-hand side; although, I could now see what was in his lap.

It was a Science Journal (a magazine). One of the "bound editions" where they got a bunch of the "Science Journal's" together a put them in a 'book' thing. Those things are also a pain in the ass to re-shelve, I might add.

As I stood there witnessing his every movement, he looked both ways, took a firm hold on some sort of diagram and pulled so that it tore cleanly out of the magazine/volume/thing. It was at this time that I realized I was holding a small book from the nearby shelf; probably felt oddly comforting...

I was so stunned; I watched him do this two more times and then I stepped around the corner, still clutching the book I pulled from the shelf. The guy gave a very convincing start of surprise and then turned innocently away.

"You know," I said conversationally, eyeing him over my shoulder as I ran a finger along a row of books, trying to 'find' the right area with which it belonged. "I saw you do that."

"N-n-NO you didn't!" He said, a little more irrational than he intended I'm guessing. "I-I mean...It...It was an accident!"

I turned around and saw that he was looking down at the book. I looked down too; at the perfect cut where the page just 'happened' to "fall out".

"Right, and it tore along the seam so perfectly? How ironic..." I said, rolling my eyes and turning back to the bookshelf.

" won't...will you?" I hear him sputtering in the background. I turned, my eyes ablaze.
"Won't what? TELL on you?" I said, saying the word 'tell' as if saying 'tattletale' like a 5-year-old would say.
"I could buy...I mean...I don't think I want to check this Volume out anymore..." He said. This time I took a few steps closer, and he stood up, which was NOT an impressive move on his part. He only stood a little taller than my waist.

I could take him.

"Oh yes you will check it out." I said, "And when you bring it back, you will then be charged with the pages you tore out properly."
"You already knew that was going to happen when you brought it back if it was checked out, didn’t you?" I said, with a tone of curiosity.
"Well...I mean...I don't know what you are talking about!"

I knew immediately that this guy was a geek, and plus, the library won't charge him anymore than it would have cost him to copy the page in the first place: 8 cents each side of a page for a grand total of...48 cents. Wooo!

"Let me escort you to the front, sir." I said decisively, walking swiftly over to him and taking my arm in his.

I led him kindly but firmly towards the front desk.

He kept sputtering incoherent words but did not attempt to stop me, which I didn't find surprising.

And yes, he did check out that book. :-)

Monday, October 18, 2004

Give Directions

The other day I was volunteering at the local library.

Being the eager little kipper, I was shelving books at top speed, answering my daily allowance of 1,000 anytime questions from random people.

Today, though, I had a particularly interesting customer. The man, with his nose in the air, stomps by, and literally falls over my book cart. He gets up quickly and says,
"Move that thing, will you?"

I opened my mouth to say something but he cut me off.

"Ah, you are a lower-wage person here, are you then? No need, I can tell by the way you are dressed that you clearly aren't paid above minimum wage." He said simply, eyeing me with what I recognized as pity.

I was so in shock that I had received such a rude comment that I actually looked down to see what I was wearing today.

I was wearing a pair of nice-fitting jeans with a neat T-Shirt. It is not as if I was wearing cut-offs with rips in my shirt to go along with it...Sheesh!

At this point, I eyed him with great distaste.

He just continued to look at me as if I were something ugly on the bottom of his shoe.
"No matter," he said, sniffling before continuing what could be his last statement on this Earth, "I need directions."

Ah. Directions. Of course.

Now, let me assure you that there are 6 floors to the library that I volunteer in, and I frequently have people asking for directions. But normally they are kind, not like this gentleman standing before me, with his suit too perfect to go along with that stupid matching tie.

Oh how I wanted to hurt him.

"Yes, sir." I say, gritting my teeth to keep from hitting him, "" Now I was clenching my teeth so badly it was restricting movement in my jaws, causing my voice to sound muffled.
"What say you?" The man waved his hand in an impatient manner, clearly wanting me to pick up the pace.
"I asked where you needed to go, SIR." I said, putting a book on the shelf while simultaneously rolling my eyes.

"I need to find the Humanities department." He said quickly with the air of a person getting the worst over fast.

Ah. The Humanities Floor. Third floor, right down the stairs. Oh...wait...

"Oh...this one is kind of tricky," I said, pretending to be thinking really hard about where Humanities is located while putting up another book. Finally, when I figured I couldn't stall any longer without it being obvious, I say:
"Well, I think you take the elevator down one floor, they are renovating most of the building you see. Oh, first you take a right out of this aisle, then a left and all the way down the hallway until you get to the end of it, then you make another left, go all the way down, another left, and you will meet up with the front desk of the sixth floor, which is the one we are on now..." I said as if he were five. To my great joy he took out a pen and a piece of paper and was jotting down notes.

"Ah, of course. Please continue," He said hurriedly.
"Well, when you get to the desk you walk down the pathway directly in front of it and go to the elevator. I think I already told you this part but..."
"Yes! Take the elevator down one floor because of renovations!" The man said impatiently.

Even more incentive to be more shall we say...creative with my directions you see.

"Ah, yes...Thennn...You take a left out of the elevator, go down ONE flight of stairs, turn 45 degrees to the right and take THAT door. Now, this part is VERY important." I say, lowering my eyes to peek at his paper, and sure enough he had scribbled down almost every movement I told him to do. My voice lowered for the finally.

"Take a left once you get inside that door, go down the elongated hallway, make a right and there will be a set of offices...make another right, go down the row of offices. You will come to the desk. Take a left along a row of a books - I don't know which of the call letters they are - then take a right and you will come to a bunch of empty bins. You have to sort of shimmy past the empty bins and come to a halt in front of a big glass panel labeled 'Humanities Department'. I'm confident that they can answer any of your questions that you may have." I say this so rapidly and so quietly that the mean 'ole man has to lean in to hear me.

Heh. Heh.

"Is that all??" He says, his eyes practically bulging at the amount of information I had given him to process.

"Yes, that's all." I say, smiling sweetly and turning sharply in the other direction, about ready to burst with laughter. I started whistling a tune as I led the cart of books down to more shelves.

* * *

I know that some of you may think that this was mean, and it was. But he really deserved it!

And wouldn't you believe it, but a nice young woman came up to me 20 minutes later, asking the EXACT same question...

"Where is the Humanities Department?" the woman asked politely. "Can you please help me?"

"Ah yes ma'am!" I say enthusiastically, still joyful about the guy I just sent on a mission to mars.

"Oh, thank you!" She says before I even explain the directions.

"No problem, no problem. Let's see...Ah yes, I remember now. Just go outside, take the elevator down to floor three, turn left, go through the door, and you’re there!" I say happily, gesturing towards the elevators.

"Thanks!" She says, smiling and heading in the right direction.

"Oh! And watch out for a really mean guy in a black suit with a matching tie!" I yell to her retreating back.

The woman turned around and gave me an inquiring look for a split second, before the door swung back, immidiately cutting us off from one another.

Sunday, October 10, 2004

Dear Noteworthy College Student,

My, what the perfect time of year, and what a great day I might add!

I love just walking here, behind you, monitoring your butt ever-so-closely. The bag you hold jingles in unexpected ways, and although I am a bit freaked out by it, I find the whole situation cute.

Oh! You are turning around slowly; maybe you have forgotten that I am behind you?

Your hand rises in a gesture that I shall surely respond to...

Oh my goodness, I never knew that you had such a large nose!

What a magical moment this is!

Now, if you could, please, remove your finger from your nose? I know that the booger is accentuating your face in ways I never thought imaginable, but somehow I do not think that this is a good first impression on your part.

Especially if you are trying to get my phone number.

I am glad that you and I shared this wonderful experience together, and the happy look on your face tells me that you have found a rather large booger this time around.

Yes, I also understand that digging for gold is your strong suit, but maybe if you were holding flowers or a box of chocolates for me it would be a better situation.

I am so sorrowful that this was not the circumstances of meeting you that I had imagined it to be.

I am also sorry to inform you that I was actually turned off by the whole nose-picking situation.

And no matter how hot you are, I will still not give you my phone number.

My apologies.

Sincerely (Not) Yours,


Tuesday, October 05, 2004

Create Compelling Works of Art

That's right ladies and gentleman, and I'm sure that you have never actually taken the time to appreciate contemporary art.

Well, I am here to inform you on just this subject.

Sometimes there are things that we are unable to avoid. Such as going to an art gallery exhibit to avoid failing a particular class. Which class, you may ask? Well, I shall not divulge this information so openly, but I will inform you that it was nothing short of boring.

Oh, wait. Yes it was. My bad.

The exhibit featured some of the most 'famous' artists in New York City. Intriguing as it may be, I still felt that the urge to hurl was quite strong in that particular art exhibits' vicinity for some reason. Maybe the aura that was presented in that facility was that resembling a funeral home.

Catch me if I'm wrong.

Now, I'm not one fan particularly for art, but I shall assure you that after looking at certain 'art' exhibits for some odd hours your brain goes numb.

Fortunately, I shall boast that there was one particular painting that I was most intrigued by, and I am here to share it all. After carefully combing the Internet for various traces of this certain piece, I have been able to create a rough sketch of what the drawing was, and I feel that it is my obligation to share it with you all:

I know.

I understand that you are speechless.

The drawing is so beautiful even I tear up whenever I lay eyes upon the beautiful creation.

So beautiful.

Yes, it was created by moi.

Maybe now you can get a feel for the true meaning behind the author's (moi) interpretation of this particular piece.

It was created using non water-based color paint on an 8 1/2 by 11 inch sheet of white paper. The price is 2,500 American Dollars.

Small, unmarked bills at best; mail it directly to me please.