Day 27: I’m Not There
I dreamed I had my retirement party on the back lot of a bar, on a warm sunny day. Lesa drove me there, and RaBecca gave me a redneck t-shirt, with the sleeves cut off, and the hem slashed into ribbons as far as the law allows. Nick had to work 2nd shift that day. He said he would stop by if he could, but questioned the wisdom of showing up at a bar in uniform. And I wore Mitsouko perfume. I could smell it, just like I could see the sun and hear the music of the bar band. See, I can do party planning in my sleep! Unlike Nick, who can’t do party planning in my sleep–if he couldn’t be bothered to take the day off, maybe he shouldn’t have been invited.
CRISIS WORTHY OF THE NAME
A screaming female wanted to make an official report (which, like many people, she thought she could do merely by calling 911 and screaming “Oh my God!” intermittently) because the officer who pulled her over had gotten fingerprints all over her car window. She forgot to add that she had closed her window on his fingers.
I won Employee of the Day by saying, “Ma’am, your breast size is irrelevant” on the phone. I also attracted comment for my Raspberry nail polish, a rather startling shade of pink.
S.G.’S 27TH POST, 5/7/13: It’s Good to Have Fans
–Someone reported a board lying in the middle of the highway, and she thought it might have a nail in it!
–Nick said I was “spreading a web of terror,” and someone said they loved me because I used the word “dystopian” in the post.