I just shotgunned a bottle of Robitussin


So right now everything is just kinda awesome!

Meeting aftermath:

I. Dean is ridiculously and irrevocably suspended for the weekend. YES! He was beyond livid on Sunday. I had a ridiculous sinus infection so I was like “I cannot hold your hand, shut up and deal” and then zombie-walked my way to the next customer when he tried pulling his “I’m a huge toddler” crap.

II. Eiffel is gone for a vacation for ten days. Maybe people will come to understanding and realization since she and Dean were gone for a weekend and she will be gone for two total.

III. The schedule is prima capute….on its head. I’m like the only person who worked an entire typical scheduled workweek, it’s been new people and people Where They Are Not Usually and that disturbs my Obsessive Compulsive Controlling Personality.

I am ecstatic that the Jaded Waiter, class-act that he is, resurfaced after prom season intact, he smoke-signaled a comment to me that made my heart warm =)

I got hit on by an ogre at work yesterday. I remember being slightly annoyed that he and his mom/hag/bitch/sister/fellow crack whore decided to sit right behind one of my drink wells so I can’t HELP but see them. He’s got multiple rings on every finger, he’s as wide as he is short, some greasy Caesar cut that just….it looks like a tarantula is sitting on his head. Some squeaky high pitched voice that doesn’t match his appearance, like a forced queeny accent that just grates on my already sick brain. I knew he reminded me of some Disney character….Oh yeah! Auntie Shrew from NIMH.

But greasier and with a more expensive wardrobe.

Yeah, so I push the ashtray away from his elbow (AWAY from him) as I set his drink down and he makes it clear he’s camped out to stare at me. He then grabs the ashtray and pushes it an Additional Five Feet Away, and says “I don’t smoke baby, those are the wrong kind of butts for me”. I literally almost busted out laughing that someone would utter that line as if to say (a) “I’m gay” and (b) “I am so into you!” like I can’t tell he’s all about a filet of Malachi and I can’t somehow politely state “your very existence repulses me, go away, please”.

I am not (anymore) the NEON LIGHTS YAY ME I AM NOT 100% HETERO! kinda person and even then a few people I talk to about it know who I am and what I do and if people ask, I don’t do labels and I am so freaking celibate I am pretty much a virgin again so, yeah. The point is moot.

He tried to do some battle-of-the-wits thing with and I was kinda winning even though I was operating at, oh, ten percent. I called him way old (he mentioned going to high school with a former coworker so I was like “yeah, she’s pushing like 37, right?”), mocked him working at the gas station and just so on and so forth. Essentially he’s like a ridiculously pear-shaped version of the Situation with the mannerisms of Bon Qui Qui. Haha. Gay douchebags. Douchebags are everywhere. Haha. The robitussin made me think that was very funny.

I won’t even tell you what google-imaging gay douchebags brought up. I’m going to nurse some chicken noodle soup and watch Heroes Season 3. Deuces.

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About Malachi the Drink Slinger

Finally transferring to that four year school in January, my goals made, my life set, the blinders dropped, my past signed and sealed, my future bright and airy, a writer, a thinker, a feeler, someone who is enthralled by beauty, an artist worth slightly more than two shits, a lover, a fighter, a person on the way to become the person I have always wanted to be....

One comment

  1. What a horrible line. There’s something to be said for being subtle.

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