Sunday, February 10, 2008

The Trilogy Part 2: Ten Percent of Zero is Zero

I left my stalker behind, and my next stop was Barnes & Noble. Long story short: I hate these fuckers. They had thwarted my attempts at getting an educator's discount for YEARS...and this day, I thought I had them...

***Flashback***

A few weeks before this moment, I went there to buy a few books and asked, once again, if they would give me a discount for being a teacher. By that point, I knew I needed my college ID card to get the discount, but I just didn't have one. I thought I would ask anyway. Kind of like asking: Will I go to jail if I kick Eva Longoria in the face? You just want to know if by some miracle, you get the answer you are looking for.

The chick behind the counter once again played along. She said I could get a discount, but I needed a school ID or my most recent pay stub to prove my eligibility. I didn't have these...but I finally vowed to myself I was going to get a damn school ID so I could get the damn discount at damn Barnes & Noble.

***Flash forward***

I am beaming from ear-to-ear in line at Barnes & Noble. No, I wasn't thinking about the Peeping Tom at Miramar. I had in my possession my faculty ID. I actually took the five minutes to go get it just so I could get 10% off my purchase at a book store I rarely frequent. This was going to be my moment to shine!

I get up to the front, and the RUDEST sales lady ever greets me.

Sales Bitch: Will this be it for you today? Monotone and looking behind me while she twirled her hair.

Me: Yup! (ask me...ask me...ask me about the discount!!!)

Sales Bitch: Would you like to be a Barnes & Noble member and receive 10%... I'm pretty sure she was incapable of inflecting her voice.

Me: I cut her off...it's rude, but I had heard this same spiel 10 times before. I pay you money up front, I supposedly make it back later. No way. Not this time. I chime in: Do you guys give an educator discount? I am radiating confidence.

Sales Bitch: Only if you have ID.

I could tell she thought that conversation was over.

Me: Well (as I ceremoniously open up my wallet. It was like a ray of light from heaven shone down upon it)...here ya go. And I placed it down on the counter with all its glory.

Sales Bitch: The sales lady didn't know what to do. Befuddled, she tried to cast me aside. Are you going to use this book in one of your classes, sir? She looked worried...it was her last straw.

Me: Yes. Of course. I start planning how I could best utilize my 10% savings. Maybe I'll buy a pack of gum...

Now she's in a bind. She actually had to do her job. She started scrambling around. She gets the assistant manager. She gets the manager. She can't find the form for me to fill out. She had no idea when she woke up that morning that this day would be the day I finally got my 10% discount!!!

The line had doubled behind me...and she finally returned from her store-wide quest to find my discount form...she was in the midst of placing it down in front of me...I had the pen in my hand...I was mere seconds away from getting $1.50 off my $15.00 purchase.

Sales Bitch: Ewwww. And she breathed in, teeth clenched, sucking spit into her throat. We don't give discounts to college professors. The discount is only K-12.

She smirked

Me: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooo (on the inside). Why? (on the outside)

Sales Bitch: I don't know. Just our policy I guess. I guess we assume you can get discounts on your campus or something.

Me: Well, we don't.

Sales Bitch: Sorry about that. She wasn't sorry.

And this is what I had on my mind as tail between my legs, I went over to Islands for lunch...making sure I wasn't being followed by any secret admirers.

The Trilogy Part 1: My Round Savior

I have had a series of odd events happen to me recently...so many so, I thought I would create a three-part series about them. Joy.

While at school last Sunday, a policeman walked up to my office’s window that has a picturesque view of other bungalows. This was slightly embarrassing because when he finally got my attention, I think I had one of my fingers almost completely down my throat. I bite my fingernails when I am concentrating and/or am stressed.

He was about six feet tall and wide and was watching me intently...I'm not sure if it was the glare off the window, but he peered into me. It felt really dirty. I swear he licked his lips.

Policeman: Hey...How much longer are you going to be here?

Now, I'm in my office, with a key and an alarm code proving my worthiness of wasting my Sunday at work, and I thought he was implying: LEAVE! So, I was very confused about his question and his intense staring...bordering on leering.

Me: Um...I don't know, two to three hours. Why? Do I need to leave?

Policeman: Hey man, it's your Sunday!

And he laughed and laughed at his own joke. His stomach bounced rhythmically with each chuckle. I just choked on my half-chewed fingernail, wondering where this was going. Dude...just don't ask me out for coffee.

Me: So...

Policeman: You dont need to leave. Just if something goes wrong, and I know you are one of the few people here...I know right where to come if there is trouble.

Well isn't that comforting. Do people usually get attacked on the weekends at my school? And I'm not sure Chef Boyardee was going to be much help. He had a badge, but it looked like he had eaten his partner. Maybe he was simply plotting good angles to peep at me.

Me: Thanks!

He walked away...and my fingernail biting got worse. I spent the next few hours constantly checking out the window for my round savior.

Saturday, February 09, 2008

Triathlon Blog #4: When Poo Attacks

I have had a terrible last two weeks trying to train. After probably reaching the pinnacle of my cardiovascular fitness since high school, something came a knockin'

DIARREHEA.

MMMMMMmmmmmmm.

Starting a few weeks ago, I felt kind of weak and out of it. I thought I might have been over training, so I took the week off.

Then, starting last Sunday, and every moment since then, my stomach has been in a constant state of churning. I haven't been sleeping because it keeps me awake...and I am consistently doing the poo-poo dance when I am in public to make sure nothing slides out.

Dark days, indeed.

So today, I tried to make a come back. I have only swum once in the past few weeks, ridden once, and running has just been out! Too much jostling.

Today was supposed to be a brick: twenty-five-mile bike followed by a four-mile run. I made it about five minutes on my bike before I was dry heaving. You would think all the things I was expelling from my body while on my bike would have made me propel myself faster...but no.

So, I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't exercise...all I can do is wait around for this to get over with, so I can try to recover my previous form.