fun to funky

2003-02-09 - 2:18 p.m.

last night at work it was like xmas all over again. millions of people, one me. i was frustrated and irritable for the first three hours of constant customers. then i had my break, took a nap, and wrote a poem. after that i felt much better about it all. in fact, i kept laughing the worse things got. i'd be up at the reg, alone, with thirty million people in line and making bitchy comments about how 'there's only one cashier working in the entire store!' and i'd just smile and laugh. not even so much laugh as giggle. the situation was preposterous: me, millions of upset people, and just me. hee hee. i'm quite sure that my coworkers must have thought that i'd gone batty. and maybe i did. it was a bit like being high. i just floated, and nothing else could touch me.

of course i was also dealing with some serious sleep deprivation. whee!

there were several delicious-looking boys in the store last night, including a john lennon look-alike who purchased a britney spears calendar. one fellow came up to me and, looking at my nametag, spoke to me by name, asking how old i was. i looked him warily in the eye. '23. why?'
'oh, i just thought that you spoke very maturely, but you looked very young. i thought that you were younger than me.'
'how old are you?'
'22.'
i grinned. 'oh, see, i'm waaaaaay older than you. practically decrepit.'

he laughed. then he left. i told jack about it later on, boasting about how i 'speak maturely.' 'cool,' said jack. 'did you get his number?' i looked at jack aghast, that smile still playing on my face. 'um, no, he was 22. he was probably still in college. i don't think so.' jack laughed. secretly i thought of how i wouldn't mind at all if that 22-year-old boy came back into the store again. i also wondered yet again about pick up lines and wondered if i'd missed something, once again. either it's too subtle for me to take note, or it's so over the top that i'm turned off instantly. plus, that's just not my style. 'oh, i'm sooo much older than you. here's my number.' it's so freaking ridiculous, all of it.

and one must use caution. a couple of the girls at work are having problems with stalkers right now. it makes me so angry, too, that they can't just go to work and not deal with this bullshit. one girl said that she's had trouble sleeping lately because she's living alone while her mom is out of town. a man in the parking lot kept talking to her, wanting her to eat some chocolate that he had, then he grabbed her hand and wouldn't let go. a couple of times guys from work have had to escort some of the girls to their cars, and even had to follow them home. jack told me that if anything like that started happening to me that i shouldn't hesitate to let everyone know. i told him that i couldn't imagine that happening because i'm not as nice as the girls who are being stalked, but then, i'm sure that they didn't think it could happen to them, either. it pisses me off so much. i just get so angry that i wanna hit something that these girls can't even go to their crappy retail jobs and be left alone.

last night i saw a girl from governor's school at the store. what is it with me seeing important figures from my past lately? she was pretty much my best friend during gsh. i even remember how she kept writing to me, even after i'd stopped. in her last letter she asked if she'd done something wrong to make me stop writing her. and i never wrote back. yes, yes, i'm an asshole of immeasurable proportions. i always meant to, i just...didn't. then i saw her. she was in my bookstore with her husband. they live here now. since it was busy we didn't get to talk much, but she said that she's come back and see me. now, the question is, will she really come back and see me or will she not, remembering the whole letter incident? only time will tell. but i really would like to talk to her again, see what she's up to. i gave her a hug, and i was the initiator. usually i don't initiate hugs. she was a good friend, that girl.

god, i am such an asshole.

uncle bill said that 700 people showed up to see jars of clay. 'it was a pagan's worst nightmare, 700 christians frothing at the mouth.' i grinned at him. he smiled back and said, 'you can infer what you will about my own religious beliefs from that statement.' i knew it! i knew it! i mean, i did know it, but that was a 100% confirmation from the man himself.

and y'know, i could've said something. i should've said something. but i didn't. i just smiled. why didn't i say something? i don't know. it's funny how my secrets were dearer than life itself when i was growing up. actually, no. in high school i was amazingly open, i think, considering where i went to high school. then i went away, and my secrets became even dearer. but now i wonder, i really wonder, what's the worst that can happen if my family finds out all my secrets? they've always said they'll love me no matter what. i think one of my main incentives to leave is so that i can live my life without always being on guard. but lately it just hasn't been an issue. people at work ask questions, i answer them. and the sky doesn't collapse on top of me. no one claps me on the shoulder and proclaims me a disgrace. i'm pretty much okay. there's a moment of breathless vulnerability, a slight gasp for air, then nothing. life goes on.

just friday night at the mexican bar bo turned to me and asked, 'are you a pagan?' i looked right back at him and said, 'yes.' turns out his reason for asking was wondering why i was pagan and didn't do drugs, but still. the initial question was there, and i answered it with unflinching honesty.

last night jack said that he couldn't figure me out. i said that i liked being the woman of mystery. then rob promised to play his bowie cd with 'ashes to ashes' on it because at the british pub (also on friday night) i confessed that it was my favourite. but the cd player remained cold the entire hour that we closed, save for the last five minutes, when i heard 'ashes to ashes' begin. i can't help feeling that he played it just for me, and i must confess delight at the prospect.

i get sad sometimes, thinking about the past and what could have been. but then i feel a bit better at little things like smiles, brief reunions, and 'ashes to ashes'.