Tuesday, February 28, 2006
My first office party went okay (as far as drinking with coworkers under Vitamin D-sucking fluorescent lighting in a tie can go). No vomiting, no doorway casualties (minus that one slight slip on the back stairs), no attempting to snog The Bank President against the copy machine.
D. BBoss got all excited and animated; he's one of those guys that lights up and shouts stuff like, "I cracked my first beer at 4:59, man!" in a coach-type of way. It turns out he got promoted into the position being vacated by the J.D.
20 bottles of wine and a case of beer chilling in garbage bag-lined Mail Totes filled with ice (that I bought, thank you very much), plastic champagne glasses, half the office's lights turned off (mood lighting!) and we were off. A Power Point presentation of J.D. in various bank photos on a screen and some gift opening and a farewell speech started the Inner-office Happy Hour(s).
Actually, on the whole, I had a pretty good time; and, got fucking hammered. Into the third Miller, I realized I'd skipped lunch. I hung with my office mate Big J. and some Scarf dude from Accounting. In between small talk, D. BBoss' shouts and murmurs, 93X on the portable radio (turned to 11), and my boss, Harley A. screaming, "Bartender! Hello! D. BBoss and J.D. need another drink" at me, I still found plenty of time to ogle the pack of Rumanian and Eastern Block ladies that work in the office....I'd like to fill their ink cartridges, knowwhatImean? Wink wink. ;-)
About ten seconds after The Bank President left, Harley A., myself, and a couple of others lit up cigarettes, and the Rumanian/Eastern Block Beauties finally started drinking some wine. Blue smoke under buzzing bright lights.
Soon everything began to blur and whizz around my head. At one point, I had to pantomime to one of the cleaning crew's Pretty Petite Polish women to key me into my office to get my coat.
Things were cleaned up, the cleaning company had showed up, so five of us split for some bar called Mullen's. I drove Big J. home and met the rest at the bar. They'd already finished their appetizers and were deep into work-speak. I hadn't a clue about what/who they were talking about, so I bought a Guinness and pulled up a barstool to the table. D. BBos reprimanded me for paying for my own beer.
Pretty much from here on out, I'm in my Nod-and-Smile Routine: "Better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than open your mouth and prove it."
Scarf and D. BBoss left, remaining time at the bar consisted of me on my barstool throne sipping the Guinness and staring down at the smeared ketchup and half-eaten chicken fingers left on the table while Harley A. and J.D. leaned on the back of me discussing more job stuff. I considered passing out, but thought that may not be the best impression for my boss.
Finally time to go; however, there remained one last test for the evening: I had to drive Harley A. and J.D. back to The Bank, to their cars. In my shitty, smoke reeking, Little Red Zipper.
I found out the following Monday, I didn't need to do any "damage control" to anyone in the office. Harley A. said I did fine. She also admitted that I wasn't the only one doing the One-eyed Squint on the way home.
I woke up the Saturday to discover this self-written note laying on my wallet:
Another time I relate to this Age Old Question.
I also found out I got four hours overtime on this paycheck because I didn't clock out for the party. Oops.
Harley A. said, "it's cool... you little shit!" and laughed.
Friday, February 24, 2006
This week gave me my first taste of a 55 or so hour week. It doesn't taste good. Actually, it's not that rough, since my now Part-time Retail gig has been slow as Hell this week and last week. Colorado J.B. gives me "two weeks" until I quit the retail job. The gauntlet has hit the floor! I am determined to juggle the double job for at least a month, just to show her up. Besides, I want to see where I stand after my first pay check from The Bank.
So after only 9 days on the job, I've been invited to TWO work parties. The first one, I had to skip because I closed at the other job tonight. The H.R. Director who hired me is moving to (fucking) Florida. The second one is Friday night. In the Accounting Department. In the office. Beer, wine, and pizza.
And I made the "Select Guest List." That's what I'm talking about, baby.
Okay, probably because my boss and boss's boss are throwing the shin-dig.
And I have to pick up bags of ice.
It's being thrown in order to give my boss's boss's boss a send off (keeping up here? hee hee Nicknames to be figured out later) as he's retiring, or got promoted, or quit, or something. Don't ask me, I only met the guy once.
So let's see here: free booze+ new coworkers+ won't have eaten for hours+ Friday with Saturday off= Possible danger given my love for the Barley and Hops.
I predict my tongue shall loosen, my coworkers discover just how weird I am, I drop a bottle on the floor, crash into a door threshold in front of The Bank owner and/or President, and vomit in the breakroom bathroom.
Should be fun.
Monday, February 20, 2006
Never a communication breakdown.
Soon, I'll be looking sexy in a WLUW T-Shirt and sounding cool with The Subways CD (their Myspace).
Consider adding your own couple of bucks.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
- Shirts and Ties.
- Another file box.
- Day planner/calendar/address book.
- Punk : The Definitive Record of a Revolution
- The White Stripes - Under Blackpool Lights
- The Dresden Dolls - Paradise
- X - Live In Los Angeles
- Punk - Attitude
- Rise Above: 24 Black Flag Songs to Benefit the West Memphis Three
- Tones on Tail - Everything!
- I Ching
- Dream Dictionary : An A to Z Guide to Understanding Your Unconscious Mind
- Peyton Amberg : A Novel by Tama Janowitz
Even with the various Gift Certificates, let's just say I cannot wait for my first pay check.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Ironically, this popped up in my mailbox today. A sort of a slap-in-the-face for a single guy who hasn't used one of these bad boys in a long while, don't you think?. It isn't too often, though, one opens an unmarked box and laughs out loud (slightly bitterly) at one's mail.
Ah, well, Happy Valentine's Day. If any of you lovely ladies wish to experience some "shared pleasure," or just wants to teach an old dog(gystyle) new tricks, let me know as I am now available after 5 p.m. nearly everyday and always on Saturday. It's got Warm Sensations lubricant, for Fuck's Sake!
Monday, February 13, 2006
I shall have left a trail of teeth around the apartment floor, like breadcrumbs along the path of my morning ritual of getting ready, from the combination of being cold and nervous. For today is my first day of that bank job I mentioned getting earlier. The only positive spin of no heat is it got me up in plenty of time to get ready and get there on time. At least the oven works; 300 degrees with the door open takes some of the edge off, but mostly in the small kitchen. I'll have to set up a small fan to heat more of the apartment, Ghetto-style.
My first pay check may go to eBay if I can find an apartment complex-sized heater for sale; I hope it fits in my Little Red Zipper car.
Okay, must go chip the ice off the showerhead.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Friday, February 10, 2006
Originally uploaded by Mac(3).
But I feel I should give the guy props, him being from my hometown and all. Into the NFL for only two years, and he gets the big shiny Superbowl ring: nice job.
I only rooted for the Steelers because of him; some sort of "You can never leave home" Complex, I'm sure. My boys didn't do so well this year, so this makes for a nice ending of the football season.
In addition, I think my Uncle Doc taught him in high school, or at least knew him/of him, and said he's a truly nice guy. My parents go to church with his parents, and they report the same. That's a good and rare thing to hear, and I'm glad for it.
The funny thing is my parents couldn't give two shits about football or any sports, in general, when I was growing up, but went to Bowling Green or Toledo to watch games when Ben (on the Miami University of Ohio) played to cheer him on [screw M.U., go Ohio U.!]
The weird thing is, while watching Ben's interview on Letterman, I was struck by how familiar he seemed. His mannerisms and speech actually reminded me of people from my hometown and Birth State.
And I kind of missed it.
But I'm staying in Chicago, and rooting for the NY Jets.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Monday, February 06, 2006
Originally uploaded by Mac(3).
This morning, I awoke freezing in my heated apartment. Even with a heavy comforter, I shivered in the morning sunlight streaming through the blinds, covered in gallons of nightsweat.
Lilly wasn't next to me on the bed like usual. I felt sad.
And then I remembered the dream:
In the dream, Lilly lay sleeping under my dining table (which had been strangely moved onto my living room rug). I lay down next to her. I was mad at her for some reason. I reached out and grabbed her gently, then twisted her head and hind legs. She felt rubbery, like a fury Plastic Man toy, as I bent her head down and her back legs back and up.
She moaned once in a low voice of sadness and pain. I realized what I had done and picked her up, cradling her to my breast, burying my head into her belly as I started to cry. Her head wouldn't straighten up. I had hurt her and couldn't fix what I had done. In the dream, I knew I would never stop crying.
What had I done?
Saturday, February 04, 2006
So, it comes as no great surprise that it turns out I like Grime. Thanks to Stereogum, I am getting a good dose of this music that I'd heard of, but never really heard en mass before now. Here's the link to the stream to which I am referring (second link down).
If I start two-stepping around the living room, I'll just pretend the puffs of grey are dry-ice fogs on the dancefloor, eh mate?