donor

2001.08.15 16.11

On Monday I returned to Philly after an uneventful weekend in Houston. I was held up in Atlanta due to weather (again) the day before and arrived very late. The rental car this time around is a Mercury Grand Marquis. This car was made for people who never want to sit up straight. There is no possible way to adjust the entire front seat beyond a 30 degree ''i'm a lowrider, baby'' incline. You can adjust the gas pedals and bring them closer, but this doesn't help prevent the temptation to fall asleep while you're driving since you are practically lying back flat on your back. I sense this might come in handy given certain situations, but I digress.

Speaking of certain situations, I have had my eagle eye out for possible romantic or even platonic situations with the fairer sex for the last few weeks. There was one incident while I was walking in one morning. A pretty blonde girl was inside staring at me walking in. I could very clearly see her standing in the lobby and staring. I think she thought I couldn't see her through the window tinting because as soon as I opened up the door she immediately turned her head around 180 degrees and pretended like she hadn't been staring. Aha! The only problem is -- I can't figure out where she works. I can only troll around during my downtime for so long and, inevitably, people start to wonder why you keeping passing their cubicle with an unopened can of Dr. Pepper. ''I'm just looking for this girl but I don't know her name or where she works, exactly.'' Right. Right. Get back to work! [crack of whip].

I gave blood on Tuesday. I couldn't resist the girl they'd strategically placed at the GIVE US YOUR BLOOD table in the cafeteria. Can you tell I'm desperate for social interaction? I agreed to give blood sometime on Tuesday. So, Tuesday comes. I find the room. I fill out forms. I get poked and prodded and questioned about doing things to people since 1977. Apparently a lot of bad sh*t went down in 1977. If you paid for sex with 10,000 chicks (or even, nay, dare I suggest it, guys) in 1976, your blood is all good. But if you did anything in 1977 or later, your blood is not wanted. I was 7 years old in 1976 and I was definitely NOT getting any, so answering the questions were easy. ''Well, there were these two girls who lived next store to me who used me to learn about the birds and the bees, but we apparently had bad information about exactly why the girl had to lay on top of the boy in order to make babies.'' Luckily I was properly trained in 1981 when we got cable and subscribed to HBO. Everytime I give blood I always nearly go into shock and have to rest for half an hour. Tuesday was no exception. After draining me of one pint of O negative blood, they fed me two glasses of OJ, some chocalate chip cookies and a bag of sour dough pretzels. I returned to work and proceeded to chug Mountain Dew like there was no tomorrow. That evening I made the mistake of ordering room service. Something didn't sit well. The next morning I felt like donating my entire gastrointestinal system. There were no takers, however. I took one of my rare sick days off and slept through most of the day while ''Unsolved Mysteries'' asked me to find people to bust for hours on end.

I woke up around 5 PM and drove to the bank to get some cash out. I seem to have misplaced my bank debit card. One quick phone call and the card was canceled and reordered. No unusual purchases, but better safe than sorry. I drove to Rich's Deli, only an 1/8th of a mile away. I go in. I say, ''Yeah, I'll like a cheese steak, all the way, please.'' The guy is like, ''All the way? What does that mean?'' I look at him like he's a freaking idiot (which he is) and say, ''it means with everything on it.'' He then proceeds to ask me if I want this and that and this and that. I tell him, ''Yes, I will take all of that,'' while still thinking this guy is dense for not getting ''All the way.'' I ask him where he's from and he defensively cops an attitude and says, ''Philly?!'' Bleah. So, I let it go. He mutters something about, ''Guess there's a first time for everything.'' Right. Ever go ''All the Way'' with someone, my Philly cheesesteak ordering friend from Rich's deli? I guess not.

Talked to the Batmobile guy about the car and its history. We are meeting on September 4th when I'll be in LA for the Rock Star premiere. I asked Puce if she wanted to go. I've never really talked with her or met her or had any interaction with her. But she's one of the few half-Armenian girls that I know (I am also half-Armenian, by the way), so I figure we at least have that to talk about. Wait until she checks out my mad thumb-wrestling skills, however.

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Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed here are my own only and in no way represent the views, positions or opinions - expressed or implied - of my employers both past and present. « vuelve \| Main \| 35,000 feet » donor 2001.08.15 16.11 On Monday I returned to Philly after an uneventful weekend in Houston. I was held up in Atlanta due to weather (again) the day before and arrived very late. The rental car this time around is a Mercury Grand Marquis. This car was made for people who never want to sit up straight. There is no possible way to adjust the entire front seat beyond a 30 degree ''i'm a lowrider, baby'' incline. You can adjust the gas pedals and bring them closer, but this doesn't help prevent the temptation to fall asleep while you're driving since you are practically lying back flat on your back. I sense this might come in handy given certain situations, but I digress. Speaking of certain situations, I have had my eagle eye out for possible romantic or even platonic situations with the fairer sex for the last few weeks. There was one incident while I was walking in one morning. A pretty blonde girl was inside staring at me walking in. I could very clearly see her standing in the lobby and staring. I think she thought I couldn't see her through the window tinting because as soon as I opened up the door she immediately turned her head around 180 degrees and pretended like she hadn't been staring. Aha! The only problem is -- I can't figure out where she works. I can only troll around during my downtime for so long and, inevitably, people start to wonder why you keeping passing their cubicle with an unopened can of Dr. Pepper. ''I'm just looking for this girl but I don't know her name or where she works, exactly.'' Right. Right. Get back to work! [crack of whip]. I gave blood on Tuesday. I couldn't resist the girl they'd strategically placed at the GIVE US YOUR BLOOD table in the cafeteria. Can you tell I'm desperate for social interaction? I agreed to give blood sometime on Tuesday. So, Tuesday comes. I find the room. I fill out forms. I get poked and prodded and questioned about doing things to people since 1977. Apparently a lot of bad sh*t went down in 1977. If you paid for sex with 10,000 chicks (or even, nay, dare I suggest it, guys) in 1976, your blood is all good. But if you did anything in 1977 or later, your blood is not wanted. I was 7 years old in 1976 and I was definitely NOT getting any, so answering the questions were easy. ''Well, there were these two girls who lived next store to me who used me to learn about the birds and the bees, but we apparently had bad information about exactly why the girl had to lay on top of the boy in order to make babies.'' Luckily I was properly trained in 1981 when we got cable and subscribed to HBO. Everytime I give blood I always nearly go into shock and have to rest for half an hour. Tuesday was no exception. After draining me of one pint of O negative blood, they fed me two glasses of OJ, some chocalate chip cookies and a bag of sour dough pretzels. I returned to work and proceeded to chug Mountain Dew like there was no tomorrow. That evening I made the mistake of ordering room service. Something didn't sit well. The next morning I felt like donating my entire gastrointestinal system. There were no takers, however. I took one of my rare sick days off and slept through most of the day while ''Unsolved Mysteries'' asked me to find people to bust for hours on end. I woke up around 5 PM and drove to the bank to get some cash out. I seem to have misplaced my bank debit card. One quick phone call and the card was canceled and reordered. No unusual purchases, but better safe than sorry. I drove to Rich's Deli, only an 1/8th of a mile away. I go in. I say, ''Yeah, I'll like a cheese steak, all the way, please.'' The guy is like, ''All the way? What does that mean?'' I look at him like he's a freaking idiot (which he is) and say, ''it means with everything on it.'' He then proceeds to ask me if I want this and that and this and that. I tell him, ''Yes, I will take all of that,'' while still thinking this guy is dense for not getting ''All the way.'' I ask him where he's from and he defensively cops an attitude and says, ''Philly?!'' Bleah. So, I let it go. He mutters something about, ''Guess there's a first time for everything.'' Right. Ever go ''All the Way'' with someone, my Philly cheesesteak ordering friend from Rich's deli? I guess not. Talked to the Batmobile guy about the car and its history. We are meeting on September 4th when I'll be in LA for the Rock Star premiere. I asked Puce if she wanted to go. I've never really talked with her or met her or had any interaction with her. But she's one of the few half-Armenian girls that I know (I am also half-Armenian, by the way), so I figure we at least have that to talk about. Wait until she checks out my mad thumb-wrestling skills, however. « vuelve \| Main \| 35,000 feet »