Do I laugh or cry?
- Customer: Can I buy you a drink sometime?
- me: I like Jamba Juice.
- Customer: No, I mean, I'd like to take you out. Let's get a couple drinks. You seem like a fun girl.
- me: Oh, I don't have a fake ID for that.
- Customer: ...
- Customer: How old are you?
- me: Twenty.
- Customer: ...
- Customer: You have a great day, miss.
My favorite thing that you’ve done today would probably be when you started to harass Melanie about wanting to get her Secret Sister a gift. You were harping on her about money, and how we couldn’t afford to continually get a Secret Sister gift. If it’s true that we can’t afford to splurge on a gift that Melanie wants to get, you’d be the reason. We can’t afford a lot of things because we’re too busy paying for your cheer gear, gymnastic classes, private tumbling lessons, and student counsel junk. YUP. The close second had to be when you spent the entire afternoon moaning and groaning about running two miles today, and seemed to think it was a valid excuse to not get up off your butt to find your sports bra in the washer that you tossed in with my load of laundry.
I can’t wait to go over Eric’s again to watch more Breaking Bad, so I’ve been hunting around for the episodes. I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS. Eric is a one to two episodes per night type of guy; he actually told me that he didn’t want me to overload on Breaking Bad. Oh, sweetie. You really don’t know how I do tv shows. I’m more of a one to two seasons per night type of gal. Ya feel?
Watched The Host last night with Jake and Eric. Half way through the movie, there was a scene where Wanda borrows a car from a random dude. And, he just lets her have it after saying it’s a reliable model and has a full tank. We were convinced that the aliens who took over world were Canadians because everyone was so polite and courteous.
Julie just came into my room, crying.
Julie, what’s wrong?
THIS BOOK IS WHAT’S WRONG.
She’s not even halfway through yet.
EL OH EL. Exboyfriends who show up at my work and totally ignore me and instead tell the people I was talking to that I was “crazy” while simultaneously being arrogant about his tennis skill.
OMG. What if I did the confrontation as my ASL final?
[Hot character runs into frame]
Julie: Whoa, HEYYYY. He’s nice looking.
Hershel: Put the weapon down, son.
Julie: I bet him and Hershel’s daughter —-
Carl: [Shoots hot guy in the face]
Me: Wow. Carl literally shot your theory in the face.
Taylor just told me why Devin didn’t bother coming to the shop to get the jacket that he left last week. He forgot it at the tennis center on Friday, but didn’t bother getting it on Saturday because I work Saturdays. ELL OHH ELL. He told Taylor that he didn’t want to see me and didn’t care about the jacket anymore because “Emily would probably burn it.” She just looked at him like he was the stupidest thing on the planet, and I can’t blame her. This troglodyte is the one who isn’t grown up enough to even exchange pleasantries with me whenever we do happen to cross paths. I’m the one always saying hello and such, but he doesn’t acknowledge that I exist. And, he’s the one worried I’m going to be immature?
He’s the smarmy butt head who won’t give me back my autographed copy of City of Ashes.
Could that be Emma Carstairs I see?
That moment of small childish victory when your exboyfriend walks into your workplace and you look supes cute already. HEH.
eat your heart out, fool.
Someone explain to me why jet-skis weren’t named boatercycles.
It’s so cute when Tennis Parents think they can argue court time and fees while I’m working.
You’ve been so accommodating to the other parents, but you keep harassing me. My son has a match at 10 am. He needs to warm up. We have these courts. I don’t want to pay. Why do I have to pay? You’re not kicking them off the court.
As I’ve said, sir, it’s a pay for play facility. You don’t pay, you don’t get to play. The other parents have paid $6.50 for their half hour, but you refuse to pay, so now you have to vacate the court. It’s not my rule, it’s the facility’s. I can only allow you 15 minutes of court time just before your match. After that you have to pay. There’s no negotiation or argument about the fees here. You can not barrate me into dropping the court fee, especially when the officials aren’t even here yet. I’m sorry that you showed up too early for the match, but this is how it is. Now, for the second time, I’m asking you to get off the court because you have not paid.
This isn’t fair.
Then you’re more than welcome to go down to a park and find a free court instead.
I want to see who’s in charge here.
I am in charge here. And, it’s still $6.50; pay for play.
No, no, we’ll leave then. Thanks for all your help. This is ridiculous. [aggressively mutters insulting things about me to his son in mandarin]
Oh, it was my pleasure, sir! Thank you for being so understanding.
No, please, go on. Tell me about how I’m being unjust and unaccommodating to you. It’s so cute that you think you can win this argument. I can do this all day, honey boo.