Even though I despise leaving work when it’s already dark outside, I’ll appreciate a reprieve from the total and complete darkness at 6:30 AM. Now for all of you lucky enough to 1-not be awake at this ungodly hour and 2-not be outside walking dogs at this ungodly hour perhaps you will not reap the benefits of Daylight Savings as much as yours truly. Everyone looks extra stabby and rapey in the complete and total darkness of the morning. I’ll like it when I can differentiate from a hobo and just some nice lady going for her morning run.
Recently I informed a young gentleman that he and I could no longer know each other biblically. There is never an easy way to do this and options range from simple avoidance (my personal favorite) to honesty (no thank you) or to Barista’s suggestion of “letting him go” due to a “reduction in force”. Now I did not take B up on her advice but if I did I picture it going something like this:
Although I appreciate your hard work in and out of my bedroom, your services in the life of TLW are no longer needed. Due to the unstable climate of relationships it is necessary to cut your position effective immediately. We considered many different criteria such as length of service, job performance and ability to remember my friend’s names. We will retain your phone number on file in case the status of my current dating situation changes. Please defriend me from Facespace and delete my number from your phone in order to avoid any drunken texts or phone calls. Thank you for your service in my life and much luck to you in your future endeavors!
Happy Hour last night involved some chit chat with a couple of chaps from across the pond. Here’s what I was able to discern from our conversation:
Fella 1: “….something.. something…football…something…something…Guinness”
Fella 2: “…..something Visa…something…something….Liverpool”
Fella 1: “…something…something….American girls like guys who drive BMWs”
Me: “They do?”
Fella 1: “…..something fireworks…something Americans…4th of July..something…..”
Fella 2: “…Green Card….ten thousand dollars…something…something…marriage…”
Me: “Check, please!”
And finally, T Saur’s pants are so mothafucking short today I can’t even stand it!