Today began stupidly but ended kind of sublime.
I woke not fifteen minutes after the last of 8 strategically spaced alarms had been muted, already too late to put on makeup but going to spend 5 minutes anyway because my eyebrows look like crap.
Not today, no.
I woke with 40 spare minutes to spend on myself and my makeup and brushing my hair before I left the house. I was refreshed too, despite staying up like a naughty child until ridiculous o’ clock.
I had all the time I never have, enough to ensure I left the house groomed and awake and with no need to run for a bus.
But I squandered it.
I turned over clutched my duvet to me and tried to mush together an image of sexy bartender in my mind’s lecherous eye… I was too sleepy though and kept drifting off and looking at the clock to find I had jumped forward ten minutes in what was clearly 30 seconds…
Rolled out of bed at the usual, fantastically late time and did my makeup in a rush and brushed the top layer of my overdose of hair so it looks brushed but underneath is a wannabe uni-dread…
I ran out the door flustered and rushed as always, but looking pretty fucking good anyway if I do say so myself. I seem to have become adept at doing makeup brushing teeth giving hair the appearance of being brushed AND picking and putting on an outfit in 15 minutes.
I wore a red pencil skirt and vintage stretchy belt that makes it look like I have a tiny waist to offset my massive hips. I felt like a brunette Christina Hendricks except without the boobs. (don’t make that face, it’s not ALL about her boobs and red hair… is it?)
I made it into work 2 minutes before lateness.
I rushed out for a quick coffee and my morning dose of gorgeous, but along the way I had to pass my usual obstacle… Sexy Homeless guy.
I began inexplicably looking right at homeless guy (I’m not calling him sexy any more).
And as I looked at him he began looking at me. So we were just looking at each other. Nothing flirty or friendly at all. Just blank expressions. I realised in panic that I was getting close and would need to find some legitimate reason to look away or awkwardness… I faltered. My brain failed me.
I passed him maintaining intense but ambivalent eye contact and then somehow some kind of greeting tried to politely emerge from my mouth but whatever it was I have no idea.
I just approached this homeless dude,staring at him, and as I came closest I grabbed my keys from my bag in an act of desperation, to have something to look at, and I looked at my keys held aloft in my hand, dangling like I was offering someone a lift, and muttered something probably inaudible and he probably thinks I was brandishing the keys in the air like “look what I have that you don’t” or something. His eyes briefly registered confusion. I don’t know how he took whatever behaviour I just displayed.
Whatever way he’s looking at it, it’s just increasing my already high anxiety about walking past him every day.
I have no fucking clue what the etiquette is for homeless guys you walk past every day and who you also see sometimes in your local bar where he is a normal customer so clearly not that fucking desperate for cash.
I don’t want him to think I like him or anything… Ugh I have no idea what the correct way to proceed is. He is always looking at me as I go past, he looks at everyone who walks past because that’s what he does, but there is no way for me of looking anywhere without it being obvious that I am avoiding looking at him or his stupid sign. Oh man… I wish I wore shades, but it would be weird to add shades now when I never wore them all summer, I hate shades. Also it’s dark between the buildings in this street, so there’s no excuse.
Then I (hardly) worked, which was boring as hell and I spent most of the morning obsessing over the encounter with homeless guy.
I think I will just be really rude now, fuck it, it’s not worth it just for the sake of politeness… I can’t risk having him talk to me when I am trying to check out hotties in the bar.
So I just stewed in that until a customer arrived who pissed me off to new heights… She was horribly obese but certain she could fit into these one size fits all shirts, and I was like “uh no they are very small, size 10 to 12. (which isn’t that small but that’s how you have to do with fat people. You have to enter into this plane of alternate reality where skinny means anorexic and miserable and having 30% extra body weight means you are happy and enjoy your life and any clothing that doesn’t fit you is made for an unrealistic body shape)
So I’m like oh they’re veeerrrry small… to appease the beast, (who if you watch Doctor Who looked surprisingly like a Sontaren except more fat) because there’s no fracking way she’s fitting into it and I don’t want to waste her time (read:mine)
But she hums and haws. She doesn’t want to accept my ruling, and she refuses to try it on. She eyes me up. She sees what I consider today’s Jessica Rabbit proportions, eyes them critically… and she drops an insult-bomb.
“Would YOU fit into this?” She waves the top in front of my small outcropping of belly.
I was of course horribly taken aback. Excuse me, I’m a fucking HOURGLASS! How DARE YOU. These are curves, I’m not just a lump like you, I have a nice thin middle part and great legs! How very dare you!… Is what I think.
Out loud I mutter something about of fucking course I fit the top, and she looks back at me disgruntled and adds,
“I suppose you are slimmer…” as if it’s a toss up and I just about come out on top.
Fuck you, walrus woman. Fuck you and your stupid Sontaren face. (that picture I couldn’t manage to line up better is a Sontaren, so you know. No I am not bitter and mean, she really did look like that. Mostly.)
Anyway I finally convince the whale to try it on and surprise of a lifetime, it don’t fit.
She tells me defiantly as she hands me the top to put back on the hanger (thanks, bitch. I told you it was too small) that it would have fit perfectly except that it wouldn’t fit her in the chest. Bull. Shit. Her belly protrudes a good five cms further than her lumpy boobs. She sucks. Out! Begone!
I was enveloped with rage.
And then I did a bold thing and went on facebook, which I am effectively banned from doing after boss-dad found me like 7 times in one day checking my messages.
So I was online and damn it bumchum was online, and he has an annoying tendency of always starting these banal conversations with me, about nothing, responding to my every time-lapsed “oh right” and “haha” as soon as I hit send.
I mean yeah he did agree “what happened happened” and I’m sure I was clear about not wanting to ever go there again ever! But sometimes he invites me out for some drinks and I’m always like “mm I don’t know I am tired, I’ll call you if I feel like going out” and then I never call.
Today he invited me to his house for dinner which flashed neon warnings in my face, but then he said he was having a whole bunch of his friends over because he has moved house. But I already told him Skyrim is out today so eh… priorities!
He laughed when I said that I would probably not go out for another couple of weeks.
He’s like, oh are you going to try complete it over the weekend.
Ugh. What a dumb thing to say.
You don’t COMPLETE a game like this, you make it last as long as you possibly can and do everything there is to do and you ignore the main quest until you run out of challenging shit to kill. It’s not fucking Crash Bandicoot, you don’t COMPLETE it. Noob.
Anyway he was also like “oh I might come by the shop and chat to you” and I realised I didn’t want him to come to my shop, I wanted alone time, I didn’t want to have to awkwardly mwah mwah on the cheeks, I didn’t want to smell his aftershave and get the full heebie jeebies his presence inspires in me since THAT night. It has become clear he digs the cut of my jib, and any face time with him is just building to the inevitable attempt and rejection and then awkwardness.
I’d cut him off now, but I feel by remaining friends with him I am buying his silence regarding the matter of what happened between us. If I start being distant and short with him, he’ll realise I don’t really wanna be friends any more and he will be free to spill the beans to everyone I know who he knows which is, uh, everyone I know.
And I don’t want that, I got a reputation to think of!
So I have to be nice but also keep him at arms length.
Anyway I’m like “oh no, I can’t chat today I am working all afternoon with another girl, Paola. She’s quite serious about work and doesn’t take kindly to me dossing or chatting to friends.”
He’s like, “oh right what time do you go to work with her?”
I’m all, “3.30pm” which is what time I go for lunch at, but I don’t want to tell him 4.30 because then maybe he will show up earlier when I am about to go on lunch. It’s nearly 3pm now anyway so I doubt he can make it out to where I work before I have to leave for the second shift. That’s what I think.
He’s like, oh well I might see you later then.
He shows up AT 3.30. I am just about to go on lunch. Paola is taking over from me while I go on lunch. Paolo is there and Bumchum is there and he’s trying to converse with me, I actually hang back and the moment for the kissing of the cheeks passes so I avoid that, but he stays and chats to me as I gather up my things and try to think of where to say I am going so he doesn’t know I am on lunch and offers to accompany me? Also, I want to have lunch in my hottie bar, and I cannot show up with some strange and unattractive man. They will think he is my boyfriend.
So I ask where he’s going so I can go the opposite way, but he’s like “uhhh don’t know,” so he obviously wanted to hang with me for a bit. I’m like, well I gotta go this way… so he walks out with me and he’s like where you going now? And I’m like ugh I gotta go check in the other shop because the girl there called me earlier with this problem…blah blah blah… then I have to go back to work in the other shop.”
So I get rid of him although I do have to do the stupid cheek kisses to say goodbye which I hate and then I visit the girl with the problem which I actually hadn’t made up, and then I am free and I run back to my hottie bar… well… I totter. I look nice though, I checked in the shop mirror.
And there… oh beautiful moment!
Is sexy bartender with his lovely face and two of the other staff and NO OTHER CUSTOMERS!
I order a long coffee, and Americano…
Sexy bartender sees me and says hi.
He begins juggling cups and things and basically impressing the pants off me while demonstrating duly-noted manual deftness. There’s no need for this, oh sexy bartender… you had me at “one euro please” (first words he ever spoke to me, probably. Swooooon)
I pull myself together and manage to force a conversation.
I am friendly.
I do the pleasantries… we talk… I sip my coffee as slowly as possible without just pretending to drink it.
I am happy.
Some old biddies come in and start whining about their coffee and how much milk they want. I mentally high kick them in the saggy chins.
Sexy bartender deals with them politely but quickly and comes back to me, and chats to me.
Oh he is so hot. He is just gorgeous.
Man he is gorgeous.
Anyway now I have had a little chat with him the door is open for me to single him out for conversation.
He is now the barman I have spoken to most out of all of them.
I am so proud of myself for just forcing a conversation, just like any pervy man would do with a woman…
But reciprocated, baby!
Anyway I was so happy after I left (damn coffee ran out eventually.) that I went to work and began gift wrapping with gusto. I realised at one point that I was actually humming “happy birthday” out loud while I wrapped the present.
That has never happened before, I normally just focus on solidifying my hatred for the customer who asked for gift wrapping into something sharp.
So now I am alternately super fucking happy and proud of my advancement to level 2 of basic socialisation skills… and oh shit what do I do about the homeless guy? How to avoid? He’s right in my path as I go to the hottie bar every day. There is no avoiding him. He stands guard like Cerberus, except instead of having three vicious heads he has one kind of dejected, accusatory looking one.
And instead of actively defending his turf he just sits on some cardboard.
But I can’t handle the tension.
WHY couldn’t I just be a dick and ignore him completely?
I am going to have to get a hat with a visor or something.
I can’t wear shades in the winter, I don’t care I just can’t. I’m not Italian. It’s against my principles…
Friday night kicks off NOW.
Beer: Check, yo.
It’s about to get off the hook.
See you in two weeks. (or before, if I risk some worktime writing, which is likely…)
I feel a surge of love and wellwishing for all humanity.
PEACE OUT, y’all