Here it is. The entire month of July for the year 1999. Don't you just feel like a part of my life? Doesn't it make you all warm & fuzzy inside to know that I'm sharing a part of myself with you? I know it does. Read on.
7/23/99: Well, Subway seems to hate me right now, because I haven't had to work all this week, but neither has Bethany, so she invited Tracey, Janelle, & me to go to this weird arcade-like place that was built in place of a Kroger in the next town over yesterday. The place has only been there for like 6 months or something, but it's always kind of freaked me out, because 1) it's an arcade 2) it still looks like a Kroger & 3) there never seems to be anyone there. Well, Janelle & Bethany had been there before to play games & whatnot, so they had this plastic bag full of tickets that were eerily sorted & counted. We drove down to the place in Bethany's Dougmobile (an old car given to her by my future husband, Doug), & got out. Bethany locked the Dougmobile, even though it's pretty obvious that no one would ever want to try to steal the poor, decrepit car. We walked inside the place, & I was pretty well amazed. It may look like Kroger on the outside, but it was pretty cool inside. Bethany & Janelle are in it for the tickets, so they go in like the heathens that they are & play the kiddie games for less tokens & more tickets. There were actually people inside, too. People who we knew, even. We wandered around, enjoying the view provided by the jungle animals that you can get on & ride around the place, the cool lamps that Tracey & I agreed to buy for our future apartment, & the water skiing game that you just can't help but be amused by. Janelle played a game called "Wheel 'em In" & got 75 tickets right off the bat, so we were all amazed by her obvious skill. The machine, however, was not impressed & quit working in the middle of spitting out her tickets. Then, it started saying "Service to...Wheel 'em In" over & over. We quietly walked away from the machine so as to not disturb it & told the owner of the place. He swung his ponytail over his shoulder & replaced the tickets for us. I wanted to try my luck & won 75 on my first try as well. After about 20 tickets, however, the machine stopped working & started saying "Service to...Wheel 'em In" over & over. It really freaked me out, but the guy came over & fixed it for me. We looked at the CDs in the jukebox after hearing some Pink Floyd over the speakers, but it was mostly 50s, Celine Dion, & a whole lot of Garth Brooks. Janelle wasn't surprised, but she was disgusted, & vocalized how much she's looking forward to moving to Florida for college in a few weeks, where she assumes there are no county people who like Garth. Tracey discovered a soccer game that had a kickable ball attached to it, so dragged me over to it, knowing about my whole soccer obsession. We decided that it would be the best place to pick up guys, so we stood on either side of it, smiling, waiting for someone to come & play. No one did, so I gave the ball a little kick, & we went over to find Bethany & Janelle. We had pretty much exhausted all of the kiddie games at that point, so we approached the snack counter for some refueling. The "Tropical Sno" looked rather enticing, so I made a quick decision (OK, it took me like 10 minutes) & got the pink grapefruit. I just don't understand why I'm the only one who ever considers flavours like pink lemonade & iced tea, but I am. Janelle got Mai Tai, even though she had no idea what it was, Bethany got watermelon, & Tracey settled on a Pepsi float. The owner guy stood behind the counter, talking to some other people, but he must have been watching us as we danced to a random Beach Boys song being played on the jukebox, because when a new song came on, he said, "Ok, what's this song, then?" We had no idea, so we started naming random guitar-oriented bands. We couldn't really hear the music all that well, & we told the owner, so he jumped over the counter & turned up the jukebox. Tracey found that terribly scary yet rather amusing, so she made sure I knew to write it here. Janelle finally got the band right on the fourth guess; it turned out to be an unknown Pink Floyd song. Then, "Dark Side of the Moon" came on, so Tracey & I got up & kind of square danced, talking about how odd we are. Then, we started choreographing a music video, but it was time to go, so we left & stopped by the CVS next door for a second. Janelle & I wandered around, discussing make-up & how we both want to see "The Haunting" soon. Tracey & I had taken our driver's ed classes across the street, & during our breaks back in the day, we used to go to the CVS, pick up these insane plastic glasses & pitchers on display, pour ourselves some "drinks", toast, & drink up. Well, the plastic ware was gone, but we reenacted the scene anyway, using our imaginations. Janelle & Bethany was amused & scared, as usual. Then, I spotted the glasses on display somewhere else, so we ran to those & did the scene once again. We found this really cool hot liquid pot, & Tracey & I were discussing how cool it was as I took the lid off of it. As I handed it to Tracey, we dropped the pot on the floor, making a loud sound & making our presence known. It turned out that the pot was glass inside, & we had broken it, so naturally, I forced myself to pay for it. I don't know whose fault it was. I don't really care whose fault it was. (OK, yeah, I do.) I was mad, though. When the check-out woman was ringing it up, she noticed that it was broken, & she looked at me. I said, "I know. That's why I'm buying it." She gave me this really disgusted look, as if I was doing something wretched, & put it in a bag. I couldn't believe that she had the audacity to look at me that way after I had been honest enough to freaking buy the pot. Oh, well. So I have a really cool broken green pot. No big deal.
There's a Phish concert tonite in Columbus. I really wanted to go. Like, doesn't that sound perfect? I don't know Phish's music that well. In fact, I probably only know 3 or so songs, but I'd pay the $26 just to hear Bouncing Around the Room live. Plus, they have a song called David Bowie, & they do a cover of A Day in the Life at concerts. I think they'd be kind of the perfect band to sit out under the stars on a blanket & listen to, as well. Speaking of concerts, Joanie told me earlier today that Fastball cancelled a few of their shows, & Columbus' happens to be one of them. OK, so Sugar Ray & the Goo Goo Dolls are a dream concert anyway, but man, I would give anything to hear Fastball do Which Way to the Top just once. Dang it, what a disappointment. OK, well, I think I'm off to eat with the folks, so bye all. (They dance above me as I sink. I see them through a crystal haze and hear them bouncing round the room...the never ending coral maze.)
7/20/99: So, I was at Subway last night, working with Brandy, the girl who seems to hate me. I say things to her that other would consider witty or funny, & she just sits & looks at me like I'm insane. I mean, I am insane, but no one looks at me that way. No one except Brandy, that is. Well, she wanted to know when she worked tomorrow, so she called down to one of our "sister" stores to get this week's schedule. When the other store faxed it down, she grabbed it out of the fax machine & hoarded it underneath her massive arms. (She wears sleeveless shirts, just so you know.) She wrote down the days when she worked & continued to pretend to look at it as I made tuna salad & whatnot. It was so obvious that she didn't have any use for it anymore, but she just didn't want me to have it. I hate when people do that. In fact, I hate it when I know what people are thinking in situations like that. I just wanted to be oblivious to the fact that she was so obviously wanting to feel superior to me, but I knew too much about her. It was a freaking schedule, too, so I just couldn't help but feel sorry for her for attempting to use it to gain power. She finally got sick of waiting for me to ask to see it, so she asked if I needed to look at it. I simply said, "No, thanks," & kept making my tuna. I could tell that it made her really mad. She took her beady eyes off of the schedule for a moment to stare at me, elbow-deep in fish & low-fat mayonnaise. She said, "What?" I deliberately looked at her & said, "No, I don't need to see it." I could tell how totally mad it made her. I really did need to see the schedule, but I just hate to do what people expect me to (total hatred for authority, obviously), so I couldn't very well ask her to see it. I had to find a time when she was out in front doing stuff & wouldn't see me looking at it. I know that I'm a sad, sad person, but I just have too much darn self-respect.
So, Heath came to see me at work the other night. Nothing really happened. He's working at the Bob Evan's right by Subway, & I told him to stop in & see me, so he did. We were getting ready to close & had all of the stuff almost put away, but I made Heath a sub anyway. He was wearing his cute little Bob Evans uniform. I must have a thing for uniforms, mustn't I? (Wait, did I really just say that?) It was nice, though. Friends & work mix well.
Don't you love it when you buy CDs, put them aside to be forgotten, & then pull them back out again, only to realize that you've missed them? I've been doing that so much lately. First, it was Black Lab. Today, it happened with Duncan Sheik. Oh, I love that man. Richard actually got me started thinking of him when he sent me a clip of him singing & playing his guitar. When I listened to it, I thought, "Wow, he sounds like Duncan Sheik." Of course, Richard hasn't heard Duncan, & I want him to like his stuff, & since Richard thinks he sucks at singing, I don't think it would be in my best interest to tell Richard that Duncan sounds like him. Duncan's CD can put me to sleep, & I mean that in the best way possible. Like, he's so quiet & real & exposed, & you know that he doesn't do anything fancy or heavy on his records, because he doesn't need to. His voice & guitar are enough to make the albums good enough to listen to over & over. Plus, he gives me that feeling that I want so badly when I listen to music. I haven't been getting it as much lately with bands like the Offspring & Limp Bizkit dominating the charts, so it's good to pull things out that I know will give it to me. Plus, he's such a cute, little guy. Have I mentioned that I met him once? (Yeah, you've heard the story already, Carl, I know.) I went to his concert & waited out back for him. He appeared in all black save a yellow leather jacket. He was only a little taller than me, & he was so shy...or maybe just stuck-up. Who cares. Someone took a picture of us together, & he signed the case of my CD. Ahhh, Duncan. Good, good memories. (I know it's not sensible to be this passionate.)
7/16/99: You know, I was sitting at Tim Horton's a while back, staring at the big picture of the founders of Wendy's & Tim Horton's. There they are, prominently displayed on the wall of their restaurants. The Tim Horton's guy is relatively unknown in the US, but we all know Dave Thomas. He's everywhere. In fact, Bethany claims to be in love with him. I was thinking about how much I really don't like Dave Thomas, though. I mean, here you have this guy who never actually graduated high school, & now he cruises around the US in a limousine wearing bad suits & making TV commercials. See, there's the root of my problem with him - the TV commercials. He's famous. He holds no actual position in the company, and yet everyone who's ever watched American television for a half an hour has seen him, holding hamburgers & doing a terrible acting job. He has a monotonous voice. He can barely even eat his own food, since it caused him to have to have triple bypass surgery a while back. He's always pretending like he actually works at a Wendy's, as if you'll pull into the drive-thru & hear his voice over the speaker. It's all a lie. I lie, I tell you. I can work all my life as a doctor, saving lives & earning far too much money for the little work I'm doing, but I'll never be as famous as Dave Thomas. I really don't like that man.
I made my second trip to the comic book store on Monday. This time, Mike came with me. In fact, he called me up around lunch time & asked if I wanted to go. I was impressed, to say the least. I had to drive us there, as usual, & since I refuse to parallel park in any situation, we parked behind the store. When we walked in, there were two boys already inside, so I felt much less uneasy, even though Mike would tell you that I'm an idiot for being uneasy at all. Mike handed me a copy of Evil & Malice, a comic that's far more girl-friendly & far less evil & malicious than it sounds. I looked around for something else that sparked my interest, but being anything but a seasoned comic book veteran, I didn't know what was good & what wasn't. I followed Mike into the back room where there were tons of boxes full of older comics. I mostly made fun of the names of the books, especially one called Gunsmith Cats. I also picked up the first "butt-kicking issue" of Star & S.T.R.I.P.E., so I was feeling pretty good. Joe, the shop owner, started telling me that I would probably like Manga, & I had absolutely no idea what that was, so I just let Mike lead me back to the back room. I got a copy of Gunsmith Cats, so I guess I shouldn't make fun of the name anymore. Joe had the History Channel on in his little office, a fact that somehow surprised me. I guess I should know by now that comic book readers are not, as commonly believed, idiots. Joe doesn't really strike me as a History Channel type, though. He was wearing a Batman shirt, in case you were wondering. I think Mike should have one of those. In fact, I think everyone should have one of those. So, that was my second trip. Oh, I also have to tell you that Mike went back the next day & bought $35 worth of Batman comics. We both bought three on Monday, but I guess that wasn't quite enough for him. He's made himself think that that's totally normal, though, so don't say anything.
Wednesday night, I went to see American Pie for the second time. I wouldn't mind seeing it a third time, either. Mike called & wanted to see it at the theatre closest to him, even though that meant me driving clear over to his house, then driving to the theatre, then driving back to his house, then driving clear home. Had we gone to my theatre, we would have both had to have driven the same amount, since he would have driven clear over to my house, I would have driven us to the theatre & back, & he would have driven clear home. That raises a question - If I would have had to have driven to my theatre had he come to my house, why did I have to drive to his theatre when I went to his house? It just doesn't make any sense. Yet, I let myself be used. Odd, isn't it? So, Mike read a magazine on the way to the theatre, making me feel guilty every time I asked him which exit to get off on. Plus, he didn't tell me when to turn & called me an idiot for not seeing the theatre. It doesn't matter that I don't drive in his area, he expected me to be looking around. He said something about me being a "know it all". I also distinctly remember him asking me if I was a "retard" as we were pulling in the parking lot after having to turn around in a housing development. He said while laughing it in his "I'm trying not to sound too serious, but I am serious so you'd better stop acting like a retard, you retard" voice, so I had to laugh, too, but still. I get no respect, I tell you. I noticed while standing in line that the theatre had a sign hanging up that said something about not being able to purchase tickets for an R-rated movie if you were under 18 & without a parent. That's not the universal rule for theatres, so I was a bit worried. Mike was totally at ease, however, since he's already 18. Mike bought his ticket with no trouble, but when I tried to buy mine, the chick carded me. Geez, I'm like not even 4 months younger than Mike, & I look like I'm under 17? Luckily, I guess she ignored the over 18 rule & let me buy my ticket, so I didn't hate her all that much. We came in during the middle of the previews, but there were basically no people there. A couple of guys came in a few minutes after us, so there ended up being maybe 15 people watching it. I love how Regal keeps their overhead lights on during the previews, so you can see this light cast on your legs & seats in front of you. I'm probably the only one who enjoys that, but it makes me feel...something...Well, let's just say I like it. I was wishing the theatre was empty, though. No, not for that reason. When I went to see it with Tracey, the place was packed, so if you were laughing at something that wasn't really all that funny, there was bound to be someone else laughing, too. Not this time, though. Luckily, Mike is a laugher, too, so he supported me. I expected that I wouldn't like it quite as much the second time, because the jokes weren't new anymore, & I knew what to expect (as if the plot wasn't obvious the first time). I possibly liked it more, though. There were some guys in the back who kept yelling things during a certain masturbation scene or two, & they were absolutely driving Mike crazy. I thought he was going to end up having to go up there, but something kept him in his seat, luckily. I think I loved Thomas Ian Nicholas even more the second time. I decided that it was his pants & shoes. He was wearing the hottest jeans I've ever seen. Oh, & that smile of his. Dang, that couldn't get better if it tried. That's all it would take for me, & I'd be in bed with him. OK, my rampant lust aside, to paraphrase Richard, it's just a good movie. Tracey & I both fell in love with Oz's smile, too, but we absolutely hated his chick, Heather. Mike said that it looked like it took too much effort for Heather to talk, & I thought that was the perfect way to describe her. Mike hated both Oz & Heather, actually, even though they were so cute together. Oh, except for the scene where they're sitting out on the dock after Prom. Does anyone really want someone sitting on their lap or vice versa after sex? Just didn't seem all that comfortable to me. I wanted to wait around & see who the heck the weird band who played at the Prom was, but it was taking too long, so we left. They played that hot, hot Tonic song during the credits, so I was singing it when I came out of the theatre, & some guy waiting by the bathrooms was totally gawking at me. There's been a sudden rampage of gawking going on. I kinda smiled at him, but it was one of those "Ahh! You freak me out, so quit gawking at me!" smiles. I've officially decided that gawking is definitely always a good thing, & I'd like to retract the statement I made on 7/8/99. Thank you.
7/14/99: So, Tracey & I actually decided to act like best friends & go see a movie on Saturday night. It was a big step for us, since we haven't really done anything together since school let out. She came to see me at Subway a while back, though, so that's cool. Anyway, I asked Joanie to go see American Pie with me, & she freaking wanted to, but I remembered that it's rated "R", & she's not yet 17. Darn carding movie theatres. So, I called Tracey from work & asked her to come along with me. We took a trip to the movie theatre that Sam introduced to us, & it was crowded as always. I left my license out in my Blazer, & the stupid ticket-selling chick didn't trust that I was 17, so I had to use my new-found kickboxing abilities to knock her out & get us some tickets. No, really, I trekked out to the Blazer & grabbed my license, thinking how odd it is that teenagers can't even get into a movie aimed at them. Back in the day (OK, like two months ago), I could have just bought tickets for my younger friends, but now they're forced to buy their own, something that they can't do, obviously, leaving both the cinemas & studios with nothing but mere pocket change acquired from Subway workers & old men who get excited at the thought of a young boy masturbating with a pie. That was a poorly constructed sentence. Anyway, I was way into the movie. It was full of pop-culture, something I tend to enjoy, but unlike movies such as She's All That & Ten Things I Hate About You, the writers brought out the good, funny things about teenagers, not the annoying, wannabe-ish things. There were no choreographed dance scenes (unless you count Jim's strip tease). There were no brooding, guitar-playing, artist chicks. There was lots of sex, though. Oh, & plenty of undiscovered, good-looking talent. I found myself sincerely laughing during the parts I was supposed to laugh at, not faking a chuckle to amuse myself & make myself think it was worth paying the $5 that I could have used for cigarettes or something else equally useful. (Not that cigarettes are useful. I should have said "porn magazines", instead, I suppose. Not that porn is useful. Porn is bad, very bad.) The ending left something to be desired, but it was thoroughly enjoyable overall.
On the way home, I had to drop off some movies at my beloved Blockbuster, so Tracey & I decided to rent something new. The night was still young, after all. (As opposed to it being old, of course...That's dumb.) We ended up getting Welcome to the Dollhouse, a sort of indie film that ended up getting a little exposure. I was kind of surprised that Tracey let me talk her into getting a movie that she knew nothing about, but perhaps she was taken by my wily charms since she hadn't seen me in such a long time. (Wait, that made her sound like a lesbian, didn't it? Hahaha.) I can't really talk to Tracey anymore for some reason. I get all off-track & can't say what I want to. Also, I think I'm really pissing her off with my talk of Richard, Mike, & Subway. What can I do, though? It's summer. My life has slowed down, finally. There's nothing interesting to say. (Not that Richard, Mike, & Subway aren't terribly, terribly interesting.) The movie was cool, though. I think I would have been severely traumatized by it had I been picked on in middle school, though. Does anyone really ever get beaten up & whatnot at school? Maybe it's just because I live in a small town, but I can't really recall ever hearing people being called names. I mean, there's a whole lot of talking behind people's backs, but I guess everyone realizes that no one is really their friend, & we're all just using each other for various purposes. No one wants to sit alone in the cafeteria, after all. There was one part of the movie that I was totally into, though, & it really surprised me. This total white trash kid named Brandon, played by the master of good indie-ish films, Brendan Sexton, Jr., makes fun of wonderfully disgusting Dawn, played by the horribly disgusting Heather Matarazzo, when in fact, he's in love with her. You see it coming. It's no surprise. It's still really sweet in a gross, gross way, though. Well, in one scene, Brandon is about to leave town, & Dawn tries to give him a hug to say good-bye. He pushes her off of him & says, "Get off of me." You're sitting there, like, "What the heck? He likes her." Then, He moves toward her, puts his arms around her, & says, "I'm the one that makes the first move." Oh, it was hot. I seriously hate forceful guys, but that was good for some reason. I think Tracey liked it, too. Of course, she also thinks convicts are sexy...
OK, so I was just at the site of a boy I easily thought I could fall in love with. I mean, his site's name is "Time to Make the Taquitos", after all, & he seems really straight edge. (Whoa, I think my mom just said "penis". I'll try to ignore that. I don't know if I can concentrate now, though. Ick.) Anyway, he has a fascination with Kevin Smith's View Askew, too, so after I saw that, I wanted to know more. It turns out that we are incompatible. On his page of "Crap I Hate", he lists these things: "Girls whom like guys from Europe, especially when it is based upon their accents, More often than not, girls, Girls with tight shirts who get angry when you stare at their tits, I mean, you are advertising, Bush, STP, No Doubt, 311, Ska, probably the most important of all, ska, Vegetarians, Shopping Malls, and people in em..." Wow, I'm totally guilty of those things, & he would most certainly despise everything about me. (Oh, except when I wear tight shirts, I wear them for a reason.) Who could ever have anything against vegetarians, though? I've come to understand that people think vegetarianism is stupid, & I agree that the people who try to force their vegetarian beliefs on others should be shot, but vegetarianism is just like anything else - you either practice it or you don't. You can't very well hate people who like animals, though. That's just dumb. Check out his homepage, anyway, 'cause it has some cool art & a link to the herpes homepage (...even if the link doesn't work. Believe me, I tried it.) Time to Make the Taquitos
7/9/99: Joanie & I were bored Wednesday night. I didn't have to work yesterday, so we decided to go to a late movie & sleep in the yesterday morning. We really wanted to see American Pie, but realizing that it hadn't opened yet, we set on ourselves the hard task of deciding between Will Smith's Wild Wild West or the equally unenticing Big Daddy. Now, I like Adam Sandler a lot, but I think I'll wait until that one come out on video. Joanie & I both like Will Smith, so we decided to throw caution to the wind & head to our favourite mall, where we would spend $6.75 on a movie that we really didn't want to see & head to Chi-Chi's afterward to make up for the lack of good acting. Before the show started, we knew things we going to be bad. We were absolutely giddy. Someone had photocopied their butt & placed the picture over Julia Roberts' face on the large Runaway Bride cardboard stand-up, & we found ourselves singing along to Madonna's new song, much to our own disappointment. Subway has truly corrupted me. I actually like a Madonna song. I've even found myself singing along to Blessid Union of Soul's new one when no one's looking. It's sick, I tell you. Sick. We were rolling on the floor, amusing ourselves by trying to figure out the scrambled words being shown on the screen to pass the time. Then, the movie theatre's little theme song started playing, & we had to dance & sing along. This is what happens when my sister & I get together. It's just not a good situation for everyone around us. The opening credits to Wild Wild West sucked. The movie was cool, though. It was really very clever, if you can believe that. I wish I could remember an example, but there was tons of little jokes or situations that you really had to pay attention to catch. Joanie has this terrible habit of laughing at things that no one else finds funny & not being able to stop laughing, especially when the entire theatre is silent. She only did that once last night, but there were several instances when the two of us were laughing while everyone else sat quietly. People just don't appreciate the things we do, I swear. I didn't get any really great vibe from the movie, but Will Smith was fun, as usual, & I came out actually liking what I saw.
Want more proof that I'm one bored girl? Mike & I never got to see My Own Private Idaho on Tuesday night, so we were discussing a good day to watch it the next day. Our work schedules kept conflicting, but we finally found a time. Joanie & I were bored once again last night, so we agreed to go somewhere to eat. We were gonna invite some friends, so she asked what Mike was doing. I told her that I thought he was working, so she said we should go visit him at Tim Horton's, even though it's about as far away from our house as a restaurant can get. I called Mike's house to see if he was working, & his dad laughed when I told him that we were going to visit his son. We didn't care, being the reckless & wild girls that we are. Joanie & I threw on some clothes (not that we were naked before...geez) & left, not really knowing exactly how to get to the place but having enough of an idea not to really care if we got lost. We got to road that I thought we were supposed to turn on, but the name seemed wrong, so I kept driving. We ran into a ton of construction & couldn't go any further, so we turned back, hoping we were making the right decision. I turned on the road that I passed up earlier, half freaking out like I always do. The Wendy's/Tim Horton's came into view, so I breathed a sigh of relief, & Joanie made fun of me for panicking. We passed Mike's car in the parking lot, & Joanie laughed while I beat her, because Mike's car could not suit him any more if it tried. Plus, he has a CD101 sticker in his back window, so...well, you know what that means. We walked in, looked at the Wendy's side, headed toward the Tim Horton's side, & stood in line. I looked to the right, & Mike was standing there, doing something, not noticing us. He looked up finally & gave me a look like "What the heck are you doing here, you psycho?" Well, maybe it wasn't that bad. It was definitely a look of embarrassment, though, perhaps the look I was going for. He did, however, come over to take our order, so he must not have been too embarrassed. He knew that I was there for cream of broccoli soup, so that's always a good thing, & I also tried an iced cappuccino, something I'm proud to say that I thoroughly enjoyed. Mike said he was on break & asked if we were going to stay, so he brought our stuff to the table & sat down to eat with us. The drive thru beeper thing Tim Horton's workers have to wear kept going off, so he had to keep getting up & leaving. Joanie said the headsets they have look like sweeper attachments. A chick from Joanie's grade who worker at the Wendy's came over to get something from Tim Horton's & she was giving Mike a *look*, so I was forced to beam her over the head with my tea biscuit while Mike wasn't looking. Joanie & I had a bit too much fun together, as usual, & people were kind of watching us. The place was really quiet, & we kept making each other laugh, so the old people who sat in front of us weren't very pleased. At one point, the old woman who Mike was waiting on turned around to look at me & laughed, so Mike looked at me & chuckled, but he denies ever doing it. I don't know what that's about. The guy who was working with Mike had been eyeing me earlier, obviously not caring that I totally knew it, but then some other girl came in, so he had to switch his gaze back & forth between the two of us. He was all hers, for all that I cared. I didn't really like his hair. Plus, he didn't get to wear the real Tim Horton's uniform, just the manager's one with a blue shirt. Oh, speaking of the uniform, I liked it. You look good, Mike. The pants are a bit of a disappointment, though. Do you know that they have fake pockets? I mean, lots of things have fake pockets, but the extent to which Tim Horton's uniform-makers went to make the pants look like they have pockets is insane. The pants have fake back pockets, for God's sake. Joanie was talking about how Mike's pointing out the fake back pockets was actually just a ploy to get us to look at his butt, but I won't mention that in case he reads this. There was actually a lot of Mike talk going on the night. Joanie looked at the menu & said, "Oh, the (insert random Tim Horton's menu item here) looks good," & I said very innocently, "Everything at Tim Horton's looks good." We laughed, the old people glared, we slipped out of our booth & quietly headed for the bathroom. After our bathroom adventure, Mike came over & pretended to pick something up as he said, "How does it feel to be gawked at by the guy from Wendy's?" I didn't understand him, so I said, "He was gawking at you?" Mike said, "No. You." So, we got gawked at in Tim Horton's. I suppose all gawking is a good thing, but then again, it was a Wendy's worker. (Not that there's anything wrong with working at Wendy's. Even if they do serve disgusting, greasy, dead cows.) After being there for two hours, Mike began wondering if we ever planned to leave, but we didn't. We went over to the Wendy's side to get some fries & beat up the chick who had been oogling Mike, & she asked us if we lived in Tim Horton's. That was odd. We decided to be the last ones to leave, & believe me, it wasn't a difficult feat. At ten 'til ten, the manager guy locked the door. I guess Joanie & I looked panic-stricken, because Mike reminded us that we would be able to get out. (We were disappointed. Those were some comfortable booths, let me tell you.) The best part of the night for Mike was when some chick tried to come inside after the doors were locked. He even mimicked the clicking sound of the door as she attempted to pull it open. The woman stood there looking at her watch for a few minutes & then came around the side of the building. Mike was worried that she was going to try to climb in through the drive thru window, but alas, she just walked away. The highlight of my evening was hearing Kenny G's stunning rendition of Celine Dion's It's All Coming Back to Me Now over Tim Horton's speakers. Then again, there was that uniform...
Mike came over the today so we could watch My Own Private Idaho. Wow, it was bad. Joanie started watching it with us, but after River Phoenix got his dick sucked by some old guy within the first two minutes, I think she had enough & went up to her room. It seemed really Stanley Kubrick-ish, & I like Stanley's stuff, but nothing ever seemed to happen in MOPI. There were some really trippy scenes where Mike & I would just look at each other & laugh (Remember the cleaning scene? Whoa.), but I didn't ever feel like the writers got anything across. Not to ruin the plot or anything (not that there is one), but Keanu Reeves & River Phoenix were male prostitutes. Now, at first, you're thinking, "Yeah. That's nice," but it's really not. (Hmm...I wonder if Mike was thinking that. I hope so.) They always talk about how it's just a job, & they could never really love the men they...umm...talk about life with, but River all of the sudden tells Keanu that he loves him & wants to kiss him. So, then you have this weird kissing scene where Mike & I just sat there, dumbfounded, saying, "OK. That's weird." They go on a trip to find River's mom in Rome, & Keanu meets up with this chick, leaving River behind. It made me really sad that Keanu knew that River loved him, yet he deliberately went off with a chick & broke River's heart. Mike didn't feel sorry for the guy at all. He used the excuse that Keanu wasn't gay, & you just don't go turning gay because some guy loves you. Pitiful argument, Mike, pitiful.
7/8/99: Wow, I could not be any madder than I am right now. I just spent 2 and a half hours writing this f-ing thing out, & my computer decided to oh, I don't know, just close down my Internet Explorer. So, now I'm rewriting it. If this was any normal situation, I would just forget about it & leave you with no story today, but I really liked the stories that I told, so here I am, writing them again. Dang.
It's taken far too long for me to get this page started, but luckily, I've been writing stuff down at work that I want to talk about on here. I always get weird looks from the chicks I work with, & they always try to see what I'm writing, but since it's always about them, I end up throwing jalapeño juice in their eyes until I'm done. It's a nice system.
You know, I made my first trip to a comic book store last week. During the school year, Mike always wanted me to come with him to the shop, but I always had Joanie with me, & she would have never wanted to go, since she was disappointed that I hang out with anyone who considers comic books eclectic reading. (Don't worry, Mike. She's changed her mind now.) After I realized that Mike really wanted me to pick up his comic book, I wanted to try to make it up to him in some way, even though I know he wouldn't worry about it if he had been the one to let me down. (Don't even try to deny it. You know it's true.) So, Tuesday at work, I got out the phone book to find the shop's number. I had no idea what I was looking for, so I asked my 36 year-old co-worker if she knew the town pretty well. When she told me that she did, I asked her if she knew the name of the comic book shop. She just laughed at me. I found what had to be it, so I called to see how early they were open the next day. I talked to what had to be the nicest guy alive, & I got this great picture of him in my mind. My co-worker watched me the whole time I was on the phone with him, acting as if it wasn't normal to discuss comic books with a man I had never met while at work. I came home from my golf lesson the next day, changed into my Subway shirt, & left as fast as possible for the shop, thinking that I would need lots of time to look around. When I walked in the door, I was greeted by the perfect comic book shop owner & the man that I had pictured on the phone - 80's jeans, long hair, a great smile. I explained that I was there to pay for a friend's comic as kind of a birthday thing, so the guy asked me which comic. I told him that I thought it was a Madman, so he went behind the counter to look for it. The chick working with him (who I later found out was his wife) directed him to the stack of newly-arrived comics, but a Madman was nowhere to be seen. He asked me who it was for, & when I told him Mike's name, he got a huge smile on his face & said, "Why didn't you say so!?" He went to the back of the store to fetch it, & as he was returning, he bombarded me with questions about myself, my school, my relationship with Mike, & if I knew each & every one of his customers. I loved him. After I paid & told them that Mike would be coming in later in the day to pick it up, I wanted so badly to stay & look around, but I just couldn't. I told Mike later that I needed him to come in with me just so I wouldn't be the only customer, but he refuses to protect me, being the insensitive fool that he is. Mike also told me later that the comic book shop owner used to be a construction worker. I mean, isn't that perfect? Most people go from something fun that they love like owning a comic book shop to something they hate like construction just to earn some money. It seems that this guy did the exact opposite. I hope Mike owns his own comic book shop someday so I can quit my anesthesiology gig & work in his shop. Wait. Maybe I'll just do that on the side. I don't know how secure a life of selling comic books is. I'm sure Mike's collection will be worth some money someday, but until then...He could definitely be an artist, too. I hope he quits his job as a construction worker to own a comic book shop & paint. I actually respect & rather admire Mike for not being too worried about security in his future, but I for one, couldn't handle it. That was odd. How did I go from talking about comic books & 80's jeans to futures? Weird.
So, Mike & I went to Blockbuster the other night to try to regain our lost innocence or something. (Not that you can do that at Blockbuster. I don't want to get in trouble for any false advertising here. Blockbuster is actually the corrupter of all things innocent.) We picked up Can't Hardly Wait, the movie that I've rented more than anything else in my entire life, & My Own Private Idaho, the movie I look at every time but never rent. Mike asked me how much money I wanted to pay for them, & I asked him for $5, so he started digging around in his pockets. He produced five ones & layed them on my arm instead of actually handing them to me. Before I could take them, a gust of wind from the "Family" section blew them onto the floor. I gave Mike a look & told him to pick them up. He said, "I'm not picking them up." I certainly wasn't picking them up, since he had been the one foolish enough not to actually give them to me. He started ordering me to pick them up in his best "I'm trying not to sound too serious, but I am serious, so pick up the money, you stupid fool" voice. He said, "You're going to make a scene, aren't you?" I am the scene-making type, but I didn't feel like using up any energy at that point, so I had no intention of making a scene. As we stood there, I thought about just going to the counter & leaving him there. I knew that he would much rather have picked the money up than left it for some other customer. Then, I realized that would mean that he wouldn't have to pay, as he never does, so I just picked up the money & walked away, fully aware that I had given in once again but feeling quite satisfied with my action. As Mike followed me to the check-out counter, he tried to make everything all right by saying funny things, but I was in no mood to humor him by laughing. Finally, I felt sorry for him & his pathetic attempt to befriend me again, so I just talked to him. Plus, I was wearing light blue pajama pants at that point, so he was really no more pathetic than I was. It amazes me how Mike just says stuff to random people. I'm a very closed-off person, in case you haven't noticed, so I hate meeting new people. Mike just mentioned something about our movies, though, & our seemingly shy & quiet Blockbuster worker went off on his love of Can't Hardly Wait. After that, I went into Donatos to pick up our pizza. That place is always empty, but the parking lot was full that night. As I waited for the girl to cut our pizza, I heard the eerie pluck of guitar strings. I backed up a few inches to peer into the back room, & there were millions of old people sitting at tables surrounding an old guy with a guitar. I gasped as all of the old people began the opening words to Rocky Top. The old women harmonized as the old men bellowed the chorus. It was frightening, traumatizing, even. I decided to start liking Mike again when I came walking out to my Blazer, & he was sitting there, rolling my purple, plastic dinosaur across my dashboard. You know he does those things just to amuse me, but I still like it. I can never decide if I like him or not because of things like that. I'm the kind of person that you just either love or hate. There's really no in-between. Mike, on the other hand, goes from throwing money at me to sticking his tongue out at the dorks at Donatos & singing along with Red Hot Chili Peppers' Scar Tissue, possibly one of the most perfect songs ever written. Doesn't it just make you mad?
The Australian man came back into Subway a few days ago. This time, though, he had cut his beard, & he was lacking that crazy hat. In the movies, they always have a scene where a father finds his long-lost daughter & goes to talk to her, never telling her who he is, just because he's embarrassed about his past but wants to see her anyway. I swear that's what's happening with Australian guy & me. The way he looks at me, I swear one day he's just going to say, "Katie, I'm your father. I feel wretched for the way that I abandoned you when you were 3, & I want to be a part of your life now. Please, let me be a part of, Katie." Of course, there's always the problem that my dad never abandoned me, & he's sitting in the next room, in fact, but I still feel that way when he looks at me. Oh, speaking of that:
Hot guys come into Subway. Let's just establish that fact right now. That's my prime reason for refusing to wear my hat, in fact. I'm nothing without my hair. Anyway, old men & woman come into Subway, too. In fact, for every hot, young guy, there are 400 old men who think when I say, "Would you like a drink & chips with this?", I really mean, "Would you like me to come to your house & do naughty things to your feet while wearing a bunny costume?" (Whoa, that was weird. I hope some old man is really thinking that right now.) Well, during our lunch rush the other day, a guy around 20 wearing a blue-green shirt came in. I was terribly busy making subs, so I didn't really pay attention to him, but I noticed that he was standing there. I felt this instant attraction to him, so I hurried up with my customer. I wanted to be the one to wait on him. When I asked for his order, instead of looking at the menu while he gave it to me like everyone else does, he looked right into my eyes the whole time. I felt like he could see right through me, like he knew all of my secrets & everything I want. I felt like he could have given me all that I want, too, if that makes any sense. The world was inside him or something. You know in movies how when people meet for the first time, time stops & everyone freezes but those two people? I always laugh at that terrible cliché, but it happened to me right then. Except no one froze. They all just disappeared. The man with the blue-green eyes the same color as his shirt & I were the only ones in the room, & time was completely suspended. It seemed like we could have been standing there for days, just peering into each other's souls, but in reality, it was only a minute or two while I took his order & made his sub. He followed me down the counter while I put his meat & vegetables on, & I could feel his eyes staring at the top of my head. They were twinkly & kind, full of life, like no eyes I've ever seen. Every time I looked up to ask him a question, he would just look at me like I was the only person in the world, like he was completely fascinated with me, & I couldn't help thinking that he was an angel. When I gave him his food, I wanted to thank him, but I didn't know what for. Just for making me feel like he did, maybe. As he walked by the counter on his way to the door, I noticed that he wasn't watching where he was going; he was watching me. He smiled at me as he left, & I had to smile back. As soon as he was gone, everything was back to normal. Customers were still waiting in line, & Bethany was still serving kitten subs. (Don't ask about that.) Good day. (You'll never touch these things that I hold. The skin of my emotions lies beneath my own. You'll never feel the heat of this soul. My fever burns me deeper than I've ever shown to you.)
