But Not At Any Cost

July 15, 2009 at 10:08 PM | Posted in Journal | Leave a comment
  I’ve been working with these two chicks from our in-house title company.  We were really, really busy, and so they got scanners to help get caught up.  Now, of course, we’re caught up.  So all the work that SHOULD be mine they are getting their goddamn hands on first.  But never mind that.
  I’ve helped them set up their scanners, taught them how to scan, and done troubleshooting when they have a problem.  And then, also, once a week we have been getting together to prep the stuff to shred.  It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, but the point is that we get together in a back storage room and work through these tubs, and it takes all three of us about an hour.  Today was the second time doing it.
  Look, they’re nice enough, I suppose.  Beth is in her mid-fifties, and if my guess is right she’s never been married.  She is short, and fat, and round, and has difficulty walking.  I saw a picture on her desk in a frame, and it was of a cat.  That will pretty much tell you everything you need to know.
  Sandy is about my age, not wearing a wedding ring either.  Maybe she was married, because today is her 26 year old daughter’s birthday.  She is quiet and keeps her head down.  Probably because she’s ugly.  F-u-G-L-Y.  A two-bagger.  Too ugly to suck my dick.  Like jumping out of a plane:  I don’t care HOW MUCH I’m enjoying it, I’m not looking down.
  They’re both just quiet.  Detroit says she can look at me when I’m quiet and tell I’m thinking–usually true.  You can look at these two when they are quiet and just kind of wonder if the dimmer switch is on.
  So I’m sitting there with these two eligible single ladies, working.  I actually do most of the talking.  I know I’m a talker, and you know that I’m a talker, and I know that you know that I’m a talker, and you know that I know that you know that I’m a talker, but still–you’d think that since they were chicks they would be naturally inclined to flap their gums.
  I tried to ask questions, I tried to tell stories, I tried to be entertaining–it kind of fell flat.  These are not engaging personalities.  These are not personalities of any sort.
  The moral of the story is, I love Detroit not only for the sex and so forth, but also because she has a personality and is interesting, and not just a pretty face.
  I just said before that I don’t want to be alone.  Now these two people, they probably are.  Maybe they want to be, or maybe it’s Hobson’s choice.  Nonetheless I imagine they are more well adapted to it than I am.  It probably helps that they don’t think all the time.
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