Conjugal Sandwiches and the Invasion of My Quiet Place

I eat breakfast every work day at the same time. Not out of any neurotic OCD obsessiveness, that’s just crazy, but from pure introvert obsessiveness which is totally sane and relatable.   At 10:15 every morning the snack bar is almost completely void of the scourge known as “other people” and there are plenty of quiet corners I can hide in and happily devour my grilled cheese sandwich like it was a dairy covered lover complete with soft but inappropriate noises of appreciation, ecstasy induced eye rolling, leg shaking and prolific licking of the fingers with cringe worthy slurping noises. It’s my scheduled 10 minutes of unadulterated joy every day and while it will probably land me with several sexual harassment complaints at some point for now it’s “my precious” and anyone that disturbs it instantly earns a place near the top of my wish list for when we finally institute the purge.  So imagine my face when I’m settling into my quiet corner in the huge and empty cafeteria for my daily dose of cheesy euphoria when this low down, no good, shit mitten, muff scratt, tub fart, warthog faced, Shrek looking bag of bitch had the nerve, the nerve I say to Sit.Across.From.Me!!! There’s a whole open goddamn dining room the size of Donald Trump’s giant floppy ass that’s emptier than a condom machine after seventh fleet shore leave but this puerile cunty big balls decides forcibly inserting himself into my quiet place during love sandwich mastication time at the very next table seems like a swell idea. AND THEN doesn’t even have the decency to turn his back to me but sits facing me like some sort of social decency deviant. Dude!!! I sat there stink eyeing him like a disdainful meerkat thinking I could silently make him uncomfortable enough to move but apparently not because as god as my witness THAT MOTHERFUCKER SMILED AT ME!!! What kind of psychopath does that??? And before one of you soft hearted snot rags @’s me with a, “maybe he was lonely” you can just stuff it. Let him get drunk and call 900 numbers and government officials like the rest of us instead of terrorizing attractive (sort of) young (vaguely) women during their daily conjugal cheese visit. For crying out loud there is not a bag of dicks big enough to even respond to that nonsense.

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I’m Pervy and I Know it. (But Totally by Accident)

It’s bowling night and I’m shitty as ever

but I also I can’t find my Easy Slide which is powdery stuff that helps you slide. Shocking right? Finally gave up digging through the doorway to Narnia that is my purse and went to go buy some only I’m old and kind of a flake so for the life of me couldn’t remember the name. The only thing that came to mind was Astro Glide because apparently I’m also kind of a perv as well as an old flake. To be fair it’s the same concept but for a completely different sport. Thankfully my brain engaged just enough to keep me from actually saying Astro Glide but still not enough to save me so there I stood just repeatedly saying, “Do you have any, umm…umm..” and turning beat red because sex lube was all I could think of while staring at a kid young enough to be my child. Eww. Finally got my shit together enough to stutter, “sly stuvv.” Dougie Howser just looked at me like I’d taken one too many hits for my glaucoma but figured out what I meant and finished the transaction without further trauma but what the ever loving fuck is wrong with my damn self? You’d think I was a geriatric back alley hooker instead of a mild mannered middle aged former librarian.

My Sad Attempt at Being Fireman Bait

There’s some sort of excitement going on in my ghetto neighborhood tonight. There are rural fire trucks and cable guys everywhere. I’m guessing a cable line came down but the meth makers are worried about their product and keep calling the rual fire department. They keep showing up, drive around for second and then leave again but the cable guys are still here. Was standing at the window with my dogs watching the excitement of meth heads scrambling to hide their stash when I noticed one of my neighbor ladies. She’s either a tweaker in her late twenties or a normal person in her late fifties. Either way she still does a pretty good job of rocking what she’s got. I saw her come out of her house, dressed like a normal person after work, sweats and a tshirt and pony tail. She surveyed the situation and went back in only to reappear a few minutes later in cute but tight capris and a sleeveless shirt with her hair down and flowing and standing in one of those cute girl poses with one knee sort of bent. Not to be outdone when the Gods of man meat are smiling down on me and practically delivering potential afternoon delights to my door, I sashayed out onto the porch in my own super sexy wear, aka sweats I stole from my ex boyfriend who was 6 ft 4 and 400 lbs. Just imagine a super white sumo wrestler with a goatee and redneck accent and that’d be him. So you can imagine just how seductive this getup really is. (Or how unseductive he was.)The crotch of my sweat pants sags down to my knees and are held up with a safety pin. And being outside braless isn’t really doing me any good as this shirt looks like something I bought at Ozark tent and awning. So I’m just standing here hoping the breeze will blow my way and at least sort of show off my pendulous bosom in the right light. So far I haven’t captured me a hunky fireman but my efforts (or my dogs) did earn me a wave from one of the volunteer fire kids so I’m still calling this evening a win. Bow chica wow wow ya’ll.

It Really is a Miracle I’m Still Alive with this Kind of Dipfuckery

It’s been a while since I had an epic Beth day. One of those days when all of my flakey, ADD riddled, laziness inspired bad habits culminate to bite me in the ass like a giant karma tsunami. Like talking to strangers in a windowless van and thinking they were acting super shady only to realize I had powdered donut goo all over my face and caked in my cold sore. Or giving a serial killer death stare to someone for parking too close to me only to find out she had a handicapped passenger and I was parked in the handicapped spot. No, the gods of luck and benevolence had been shining down on me vaguely steadily despite my errant disregard for common sense or responsible grown up habits. Until today. I’m sitting in line at the gate on base openly mocking people for not having their ID’s ready thinking what kind of idiot doesn’t realize that armed guards aren’t there to give you a smile and a hand job. You should be ready with your ID you shifty shit bagel. All the while flopping around in my seat to make sure the gate guard noticed my impatience. He did. I pull up and go to hand him my ID and he says, “You’ve been selected for random inspection, please pull to inspection gate. OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE. So I pull forward and lean over to get my registration out of the glove box while I’m rolling to the next gate and totally fucking miss the driveway. So now they have to hold traffic for ALL the lanes while I drive backwards 10 yards, in front of all the families there for graduation day all the while the inspection guard is jumping up and down waving at me yelling, “Wrong way ma’am!” Oh really? I hadn’t noticed. I finally get back on track and he runs up laughing and says, “Did you try to get away from us?” Yes, child I really thought I could go unnoticed in a bright red clown car with personalized plates on a military installation. And because I am lazy, I never bother to print my insurance card anymore. I have the app on my phone and just tap tap it up, right? Hahahahah, no. Two weeks ago I got a new phone and guess which app I didn’t bother reloading? That’s right, my insurance. With the app I never had to log in, just tap and it was there. Never. Had. To. Remember. My. Fucking. Password.!!! So guess what I’m doing for 5 minutes. Frantically trying to remember my password and then gave up and just reset it. Then the email they send to reset didn’t come through. First the guards made me pull forward to get out of the way and then I was there long enough for a guard change and then a 12 year old comes and just leans with both hands on my door watching me fiddlefuck with my phone. I say, “I SWEAR I’m not an idiot.” And he says completely sarcastic, “Oh no ma’am, we don’t think that as ALL, it happens ALL the time.” Now, usually I love me a smart ass but come ON! Cut me a fucking break Baby Einstein. He finally says, “why don’t you go off base, take your time resetting it, then come back.” I tried to give him my best disapproving librarian stare but he TOTALLY ignored it, stepped back, pointed to the exit and said, “please have id and insurance when you come back.” all confident like he’s the mayor of asstown or something. GASP!! How dare he take that tone with my blatant incompetence!! I mean I get that it’s hard to take someone serious when their plates are an homage to an obese rapper from the 1980’s and they look like your crazy aunt with too much makeup and there’s dog hair floating out the window but still! So off I went and once I calmed down it took all of two minutes to install the app, set it up, get my card and go back. I pull up to Officer Tiny Tot and he BARELY glances at my insurance, says, “Oh look, it’s you again, thank you and be safe pulling into traffic.” Da fuq rugrat???
And while this sweet clusterfuck was unraveling I had texted work to make them aware of my situation. I expected some snarky response but was relieved that they at least had mercy on me. Or did they? Of course not. Sure enough when I get to the office Cowoker McSnarky with the photoshop skills hands me this masterpiece. Then my boss is yelling, “Too bad, this is on you!!!” and I’m yelling, “I KNOW!!” and now I’m totally feeling like a less competent version of Rodney Dangerfield. *sniffle* No respect!

Reasons Why I’m Not Popular at Work and Also Why I’m Single.

Unfamiliar soldier (US): Hi Beth! I’m blah blah blah from Charlie Company blah blah blah and I own the students in blah blah blah and I just got here blah blah blah. (If I don’t have to deal with you on a regular basis and you don’t come bearing gifts I’m not going to bother to remember who you are or what you do. It’s not your fault, I’m just that lazy. And kind of an asshole.) I’m just going around getting a feel for the place and learning who everyone is…

Me: (interrupting) Oh you’re a good person then! I rarely leave my cube or care what everyone else does.

US: (Looks startled then laughs like I’m joking) Oh well it’s good to get to know the people you work with. So what do you do?

Me: (deer in headlights: wait, what do I do again? Dipshittery on Facebook isn’t my job! Say something!) ((Babbles incoherently about education and training development)) So feel free to stop by anytime. Especially if you have snacks.

US: Oh do you bring in snacks a lot?

Me: No, I meant you. You bring snacks.

US: (Looking increasingly uncomfortable) ((laughs nervously)) Oh, ha, yes. What kind of snacks do you prefer?

Me: Oh I’ll eat anything but cheese is always a good choice.

US: Ha, good to know. (Bolts like a rabbit)

And that boys and girls is how you use advanced social awkwardness to alienate coworkers and get a reputation as an addlepated nut monkey. You’re welcome!