So….uh….we went to lunch once, right? And, um, I gave her my Yahoo ID so she could contact me if she’s got computer problems. Well…I don’t remember telling her that she should contact me if she’s got personal issues. *sigh*
Now I get IM’s like this “My mother had surgery on her shoulder last night so I have to take care of her& the house tonight and this “I still have the headache that I went to UMC’s ER Wednesday and to CMMC’s ER on Friday night.” She’s also called me once or twice to complain/share about her job and to tell me that her 2nd ex-husband wouldn’t take her phone calls. Gee?!? I wonder why…loon.
I like my life to remain drama free for the most part, and this is infringing on my non-dramaness. So, uh, Dear Reader, how does one extricate oneself from this situation without hurting someone’s feelings?
So there I am, Dear Reader, surrounded by a cheering, screaming, whistling, foot-stomping, hollering horde of Arkansas Razorback fans. I am the lone purple and gold baseball cap wearing Tiger fan amidst a sea of red. For every ear-shattering scream of “WOO! SOOEY! PIG!”, my throat-rattling call of “GEAUX TIGERS!” is like the proverbial fart in a windstorm…no one hears it but me.
That is, until LSU score first. Huzzah! The Tiger fans on the other side of the stadium erupt in cheer, the Golden Band from Tigerland fires up a lusty “Geaux Tigers”, and the crowd around me abruptly falls silent. My ears are ringing as I stand up and shout, “Wow, it sure got quiet in here!”. Heads turn as I cheer my Tigers. My buddy leans over and shares some sage advice; “We’re two LSU fans surrounded by thousands of Razorback fans. Reassess the situation and Shut. The. Fuck. Up.
It was an awesome weekend. I spent Thursday through Saturday with some of the best people around. I watched some great football in the cold (LSU v Arkansas) and saw some not so great football in the cold and rain (Ole Miss v Mississippi State). I watched football from the very top row of seats in the end zone (Arkansas) and from the 50-yard line (Ole Miss). I tailgated for the first time ever (Arkansas) and pretended I was an old pro (Ole Miss). I put close to 800 miles on the Mazda. I met a man who ran his own porn website. I watched a drunk college student wade across a creek in 40 degree weather…twice. I yelled myself hoarse. I made some new friends. I saw more beautiful women per square foot (Ole Miss) than I have ever seen in my life. No shit, people. Ole Miss has got to have more beautiful women per square foot than any college campus in America. And no, I didn’t pick up any…it’s kinda tough when they insist on calling you “Sir”.
All in all friends, this ranks as one of the best Thanksgivings I’ve had. Ever.
If anyone who reads this is a financial planner or knows of a good financial planner, can you let me know? Need some serious help on retirement planning…and this rate, the first words out of my mouth when I retire will be “Do you want fries with that?”…
Well, folks, this’ll be my first Turkey Day as a divorced man and I’m celebrating in typical man fashion. No, it won’t be a drunken porn fest or lounging around for 4 days in the same pair of boxers watching football. Although, I will admit, both of those do sound rather attractive. This year it’s going to be LIVE COLLEGE FOOTBALL, BABY!!
My buddy and I are heading to Little Rock, Arkansas tomorrow afternoon to enjoy a nice dinner with a co-worker/friend and then Friday we’re watching LSU stomp a mudhole into the Arkansas Razorbacks. GEAUX TIGERS!!
After witnessing LSU’s humiliation of the Razorchickens, it’s back into the Mazda6 for a trip to Oxford, MS. We’ll enjoy a nice stay at someone’s condo Friday night. Saturday, you’ll find us in Vaught-Hemingway Stadium watching the Ole Miss Rebels take on the Mississippi State Bulldogs in the annual Egg Bowl. I don’t really care who wins, although it would be nice to see State get the victory. I’ve got a lot of respect for their coach, Sylvester Croom, and little respect for the Ole Miss coach. Just don’t like the guy.
After that, we’ll head back to Jackson Saturday evening. Since these are the only games I’ll attend this year, I’m looking forward to it. I hope you, Dear Reader, have an excellent holiday and I will chat with you again on Monday. For those of you that don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say, “HAVE FUN AT WORK, SUCKERS!”. Adios.
UPDATE: Well, it was nice. And that’s about all I can think to say. Didn’t really feel a spark, but that’s ok. That’s not going to happen every time.
So….uh….If you call to confirm your get to know one another lunch and then spend the next 5 minutes listening about her ADD, restless leg syndrome, neurologists, headaches, sleeplessness, cramps, bloating, and weight gain, should you 1) scratch your fingernail over the mouthpiece and say, “can’t….hear….break….up…stup…cell…pho” and then hang up, 2) mention you may be late because you have to meet your parole officer, or 3) set your pager to go off 30 minutes into the lunch and then pretend you have a Priority 1 help desk (this has worked once before).
I’m leaning towards 3.
If you’re gored in the hand by a goat, in your front yard, and the local Vet stitches you up, you might be a redneck.
Or, you could be my buddy Marty, who tried to slap his goat in the head for jumping on the fence and ended up with three stitches in his hand.
The IM started out with “Hey, guess what?” and ended with “I’ll pick you up about 12:30 on Tuesday.”
I think I have a date.
I know your first question is going to be, “What do you mean you think you have a date?”. And my response would be, “Just what I said. I think I have a date.”
OK…Here’s how it went down. I IM’d her and said, “Hey, guess what? I bought a new car.” She responded with “What kind?”. We chatted for a bit, then she said, “When are you going to let me drive it?” I said, “Hahahaha. Never.” Then she said, “Well, when am I going to get to ride in it?” I said, “When do you want to ride in it?” (smooth, huh?) She said, “You tell me.” After some schedule checking, we agreed on lunch Tuesday. Actually, it was her idea to meet for lunch.
So, Dear Reader, now do you understand why I say “I think I have a date”.