Friday, January 28, 2005

She Took The Midnight Train / Goin' Anywhere

If nothing else, this job has made me extraordinarly proficient at looking like I'm doing something when I'm really doing something else entirely.

Case in point: whilst perusing imdb.com for information on the Aeon Flux movie [the reason why my pal Charlize's hair was so godawfulbad at the Golden Globes] [note: I'm not sure, but I think I just became a bitchy fashion queen in the span of that aside] I was able to convince several wandering individuals in posession of hiring/firing power that I was actually trying to find copyright information from Lippincott Williams & Wilkins.

And another: whilst listening to Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" on the subway this morning, I was able to feign novel reading and portray general disinterest so convincingly that no one was able to detect the total rock monster blasting from my headphones, thereby avoiding the embarassing explanation as to why it is I'm listening to Journey in the first place [explanation: I love the shit out of that terrible, terrible song].

One more: boss thinks I'm updating credit lines right now.

Since that's obviously not the case, and it's Friday, and I'm getting paid, I'm in such a good mood that I think it's time for a Hot Dad update.

Since your last Hot Dad communique, your narrator:
1. Shared her seat with him only once, but not the usual three-person seat--the two-person bench on the other side of the aisle, the very love-seat of the MetroNorth.
2. Found out what it is he does for a living (her college professor guess was way off).
3. Nearly passed out when he stated he's a drummer in a band (recreationally, not professionally).
4. Reorganized her entire iPod, effectively hiding any guilty pleasure bands should he ever feel like browsing her artists list a second time.
5. Talked about David Sedaris, whom he has seen read live.
6. Been playfully (wonderfully, swoon-inducingly) beaten up with her own newspaper when she was able to complete Thursday's crossword.
7. Discovered he was walking home; saw opportunity to lure him into her car.
8a. Found out reason he was walking home was due to race with co-workers to lose twenty pounds; saw opportunity dissolve into the cold night air.
8b. Re-discovered my penchant for absurd melodramatic verbiage.
9. Discussed shared character flaw of intense midnight snacking.
10. Discussed shared hatred of Walmart.
11. Was thrown into a glass wall by a middle-aged woman.

I feel perhaps the bullet format doesn't quite do justice to number eleven. In the interest of prolonging my credit-line-free work hours, I'll explain. Last night the Hot Dad and I were talking while standing in the aisle in front of a woman who has never been particularly civil to me. Like everyone else with ovaries on the 5:12, she's totally got the hots for my fella.

When we pulled into my station, a conductor shoved past everyone by the door, leaving the Hot Dad several people ahead and me next to the not-so-nice lady. On the way up the stairs, the Hot Dad stopped at the top and held the door for me, waiting for me to catch up.

At this point, the woman shoved me with both arms into the glass wall that encases the stairs and ran past me. At the top of the stairs she made some strange joke to the Hot Dad and awkwardly rubbed his arm in that I'm-touching-your-arm-because-yes-it-may-be-socially-acceptable-to-do-so-at-this-point-in-a-conversation-but-really-beacuse-it-would-be-uncouth-as-well-as-an-arrestable-offense-to-remove-your-pants way.

But I suppose all's fair in love and public transportation, and bitch's got balls. Can't argue with that.

Rather, don't argue with that, or you'll wind up on the tracks.

2 Comments:

Blogger Melina said...

First time browsing your site and I'm laughing with tears coming down my face. That was a priceless comment about the "arrestable offense" of taking off Hot Dad's pants! Cheers to you!

2:11 PM  
Blogger ErntsBloggo said...

Maybe we should combine our massively work-adverse intelligencies and write a book on how to look like one is working when actually... um, say... blogging.

I wish you had ricocheted off the glass and bounced crazy middle-aged lady back down the stairs.

"But officer, I was pushed from behind into the glass and after I rebounded she put her body between me and the stair well, screamed 'he's all yours' and plummeted to her death, sparing my life, ending hers, and I hate that she's gone but now the Hot Dad is all mine."

"Well, I see your point."

2:25 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home

Site Meter Blogarama - The Blog Directory