|
As much as I love my work, it can be a sketchy ass place. I don't necessarily mean that shady stuff is going down. But let's put it this way ... if you don't fit in with "the team," you're gone. Since I started working there 4 months ago, I've seen about 5 people get fired. For a company of about 80, I consider that a pretty significant number. And when I ask people what the reasons are? ... "He wasn't very likeable." "She didn't have a good attitude." "His pants didn't match his shoes." It's a great idea, in theory. Create a place where everyone gets along. Where everyone is positive and quick to show how much they love working with each other. But it definitely creates a strange atmosphere. I find myself thinking, "Hey there, Jack. What would happen if I just punched you in the face right now?" ... Not because I have anything wrong with Jack, but because the idea of punching Jack in the face is so absurd in those surroundings that you almost have to do it just to see what would happen. Kind of like running frantically into a restaurant dressed in a giant bear suit. Same principle, really. These are my aspirations, people. These are my aspirations.  It was basically a surprise visit, one last goodbye before Amie moves back to Boston. It's always a bit uncomfortable when the ex finally admits she's seeing someone else, even if you've expected it all along. You want her to say it. You want her to tell you. But you don't necessarily want to know. Ironically, the Mexican food in Harrisburg was better than any I had eaten in San Diego. The pitcher of Margarita ... helpful in conversation. Maybe she thought I would say yes--that I would have a story to share with her... "So, are you seeing anyone?" No. "Did you get with anyone in California?" No. Later, we drank Jack and Coke on the patio and I wished on a lightning bug that I thought was a shooting star. Inside, we moved the coffee table for an impromptu wrestling match, and we salsa danced to Manu Chao. I offered to sleep on the couch. "Food for thought," I said, moved to kiss her, and she immediately noticed a lightning bug flying around the bedroom -- a bug I proceeded to kill and flush down the toilet before lying back in the bed and falling to sleep. A few hours later, we hugged and she got on the morning train back to Philadelphia. It was, to be honest, our first real goodbye -- a tiring last one. Some random details: - I want a new car like a mofo (and by 'new' I mean a cool piece of junk) - I'm secretly starting my own part-time ad agency with a coworker. - I'm eating more food per day than I have since I was 15. - Currently downloading: The Bravery. - I decided last night that this summer is going to rock. Hardcore. - A year ago this time, I was packing my bags for hell. - Oh look. Lightning bugs. - At work, our weekly 120,000-subscriber company newsletter now has this pic at the top:  Yep. Just plain ridiculous. As a dutiful DVD fan, I am obliged to tell you about another great sale at my favorite source for new DVDs: DeepDiscountDVD.com. (No, the bastards aren't paying me for these plugs.) You can now get an additional 20% off their super low prices (the lowest on the Internet, mind you -- plus free shipping) by entering the coupon code: supersale. Expires this Saturday, June 25. I'm broke, so I won't be buying anything. But I hope this helps some of you. Back to reality ...  Remember having sleepovers when you were a kid? Remember spending a whole day with your best friend only to have some ridiculous argument blow up into something that made the two of you so sick of each other that you didn't want to speak to them for days? Unfortunately, this is basically how my week in San Diego came to its end. I have no idea what happened. I don't know why. I don't know how. I only know that something went wrong. I'm running on an hour's sleep right now, so maybe I'll be able to figure it all out later. In any event, it was a great week overall ... as not evidenced by these few photos ...      I was bit annoyed with the service at the Japanese restaurant, but the sushi was excellent, Mara and I agreed. I mention this only because it's the last memory of normalcy I have from last night. We walked back to the house where Mara's older brother Mikey was waiting for us, locked outside. He had brought his surfer friend Justin and 3 sizable chunks of weed, which he immediately pulled from his pocket, unbagged, and handed to us. Inside, they ate Monday night's leftover Chinese food, and we finished off a case of Pacifico. In between cell phone calls, Mike gave stoned accounts of recent trips to Mexico and Las Vegas. The details are vague, but I remember something about paying off the federales with tequila and stickers, and being thrown into "the gnarliest of slayer pits." I said barely a word the whole time, but I began to worry my heart was about to stop -- or even worse, that it would beat faster. The space between Mikey and Justin's departure and Mara and I going upstairs to watch "The Incredibles" is a bit blurry. But at some point someone shouted, "My plushies are not junk! What kind of a monster are you!" I know this because I had to write it down. Mara's dog Maxwell ("Maxhole," to her talking parrot) was sitting in my seat, so I tapped its butt with a pillow to get him to move over. That's when he started wheezing and having trouble breathing. By then, my mind was already racing in a million directions. Every thought I had--no matter who or what it was about--had become a worry. And now I was about to be the cause of Mara's dog's death. But Max calmed, at least long enough for Mara to notice a breaking news story about an earthquake off the coast of California. A tsunami warning had gone into effect for the entire coastline, and certain areas were already being evacuated. Max started breathing heavily again, and Mara's phone rang. It was her brother, asking her if she had heard what was happening. "Do you really think this is serious?" I asked, but Mara is not the person to ask such questions. The dog sounded like it was choking, and I remembered news stories about the animals in Southeast Asia having the instinct to leave the area before the tsunami struck there last December. "This is my fault. I scared him with the pillow," I said. "No, he's just really nervous about something." "Well, what do you think he's nervous about??" An hour or so later (hours? days?) the dog finally breathed normally. The tsunami warning was called off. Everything was pretty quiet except for the sound of "The Incredibles" and my pounding heart. Mara kidded about one of the characters in the movie, "I think she's coming on to him. I think she’s playing hard to get.” I had no idea what she was talking about because I wasn’t paying any attention to the movie, but it was around then I realized I had the basic story to a novel I will never write. The first thing I said to her this morning was a combination of words that I never imagined could come out of my mouth. “I need to seriously reevaluate whether I should ever smoke again.” That’s when she told me she had heard me screaming in my sleep last night.  The woman next to me sneezed after we sat down. I blessed her; she thanked me; she told me it was her first time flying. Silently I cheered, picturing her screaming to the top of her lungs as the plane was about to take off. Instead, we said nothing for the rest of the hour-long flight from Baltimore to Charlotte. Flight 2. They showed Hitch with Will Smith, and I realized where my boss (Will's #1 fan) got all his information about women. The man next to me was reviewing his "FMF Ground Combat Elements Study Guide," while the woman in front me was reading "Why Guys Love Bitches." I looked through SkyMall, my absolute favorite in-flight reading material. People had warned me about landing in San Diego. They said you get so close to the buildings that the pilots must have a certain amount of flying experience before they can land at Lindbergh Airport. Of course, I was extremely excited for this, and then thoroughly disappointed when the captain said we'd be landing from the West - steering clear of the downtown skyline. "June Gloom" they call it in San Diego right now. About 69 degrees, cloudy all day. Greetings! I leave late Saturday night for San Diego. I hope to update with pics throughout the week, so stay tuned, kids! What's on your mind, Michael? Vacation. Where are you going? Vacation. When are you leaving? Vacation. When will you be back? Vacation. Can I come? Vacation. Hey, fuck you asshole! Vacation. Just when you thought I couldn't possibly say anything more about Savannah ... I remember it was the night before Halloween. Saturday. My friend and I were on our way to a football game that had been moved to a small stadium in the center of Fort Stewart -- a fairly big military base/community, home to about 15,000 active duty soldiers and their families. The road leading to the base was completely black, and it went on for miles. We were the only car. Every few minutes we'd pass a huge dead gray animal, but we could never figure out what it was. When we reached the first checkpoint, four men with M16-sized rifles surrounded our car. They asked us where we were going and they were quick to take our IDs, and the car's registration. Only one of them did the speaking: "Drive 25 feet forward and stop completely at the white line. At the point, you will turn the vehicle around and drive slowly to the line where I will be standing. You will stop, turn the car off and take the keys out of the ignition." I whispered to my friend, "Quick. Let's floor it. See what happens," but he was too busy shaking. Eventually they gave back our IDs and sent us in the right direction. We found the stadium and watched our company-sponsored, undefeated Semi-Pro football team lose the championship game to a team that was ranked a few spots below them on the nation's top 10 list. I had two weeks left before I would leave that disgusting city and move back home to PA. I was happy to see the team lose. I was happy to get back to my apartment that night, ditch the wedding reception of a dog-beating asshole stoner, and skip the "bikini blood wrestling" at a bar downtown, even though everyone else was going. It was one of my last weekends in Savannah, and at that point I was happy to be done with the whole experience. Thinking back on it now, though, I realize: I really should have checked out the blood wrestling. |
Late night snacks. Bite-sized ramblings. Old-fashioned eats, served fresh daily. Open 24-7.  Other blogs Fireballs and Tsunami JeffreyDavis.net Mismatched Parentheses NimbleSixpence One Tortured Soul Palpably Inadequate Picnic, Lightning Pony Legs, Temporarily Supernouveau Wander Lust In my DVD player Archives June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 Other stuff Homestarrunner One Slime DeepDiscountDVD Olde English Sketch Comedy Live Music Archive Copy Army Copywriting Service Love & Radio This One Time Email me mmjunior / at / hotmail   
|