When French Nails Go Wrong

I was sitting on the bus, staring at the floor, when I noticed my neighbor had the most incredible case of toe fungus ever. I wondered why she would even wear open-toed shoes out in public before the infection was cleared up by massive doses of medication.

Then I realized that she had a French manicure, but instead of having the usual white tips, asked for yellow tips.

Oy. She probably thought it would be unusual and attention-getting.

Well, it worked.

Sorry J. M. Barrie

Overheard on the bus (during a conversation between two women in their 20s):

"I'm reading Peter Pan right now. It's really different from the Disney movie. There's all this stuff about Peter Pan being a baby, and not wanting to grow up. Did you know, the guy who wrote Peter Pan was a dwarf?"

"Oh, like those primordial dwarfs?"

"Yeah, the ones that only grow to 3 feet tall? I bet that's why he wrote Peter Pan. Because he couldn't grow up himself."

"Wow."

(I bet she thinks Mark Twain was a pro wrestler, too).

Medical Mystery

I had an appointment today, and I'm starting to think my doctor and her nurse find me weird.

I'm on medication that causes weight gain, but I'm losing weight instead. (I interpreted this to mean I should go out and buy a bag of Kit Kat bars. I'm eating one right now).

After the nurse gave me a shot, she stood there with a band-aid ready, and stared at my arm. A few seconds passed and she started to frown. "Huh, no blood." She then put the band-aid away.

I asked if I could have a band-aid anyway, maybe because I'm a hypochrondriac and I Have a Tiny HOLE in My Arm Now CAN'T YOU SEE!

Actually, no she couldn't. After I came home I pulled the band-aid off to peek at my wound. The prick was about 1 mm away from the edge of the band-aid pad.

Another Kit Kat bar will calm me down.

The Obvious Solution

I used to work as a lab manager at a previous job. I think the building manager in that facility misses me.

He sent an email telling me that someone at my old lab called him in to look a clogged drain. When he got there, that person showed him a sink with several inches of murky water in it.

The building manager reached in and pulled out a drain plug.

I don't think he's very impressed with my replacement.

Subtle or Non-Subtle Advertising?

I find the little digital scrolling display on gas stations creepy now.

They normally say, "Insert card" or something to that effect, and run ads like "Nachos inside!" while you're pumping gas.

The other day I saw one that said "We've got it right inside. Oh thank heaven."

I still don't know what they were selling.

Wolves and Sheep

Listening to men talk in groups can be disturbingly vulgar, but fascinating from an anthropological point of view.

I recently overheard this gem from a group of men talking about a non-present friend, who was "chasing a chunky chick" he picked up at a bar.

Man 1: "He really needed a wingman, you know? When you got a wingman to help you out the wolves can be more selective with the sheep."
Man 2: "Shut up. You're sounding all philosophical and shit."
Man 1: "It ain't philosophical. It's all about picking out the sheep that's limping. Or the one that's gotten too fat to run with the herd."
Man 3: "Haha. Too fat to run is right in this case."

The same group of men, with a different conversation about assertiveness rubbing off on you:

Man 1: "I got more balls since I started living with my wife."
Man 3: "Maybe she gave you hers."
Man 1: "Says the guy who takes it up the ass!"
Man 3: "I still got balls."
Man 1: "Yeah, the ones that touch your ass."
Man 2: "Or the ones that touch your chin! Haha!"

I will never quite understand the other half of my species.

Comfortable Bathing

I Have Hot Water.

Yes!

Mrs. Landlord actually showed up at my house yesterday to wait for the Gas Company guy, after I threatened to move out. I made it clear to her that her duty was not to just let the GC guy in, but to get me hot water. If the GC guy couldn't fix the problem, she was going to buy a brand new water heater that day, and have her husband or a repairman install it. I said, "I can stay here and pay rent for next month, or you can refund me half my September rent and deposit now. It's your choice. I can write you a check next month, or you can write me a check this month."

Mrs. Landlord came over in the morning and I went to work. When I came back, there was a service report from the GC guy on the kitchen table.

It turns out it was a simple pilot light problem. That's what I told them last week.

If they had listened to me last week, when I said, "I think it's the pilot light and I'm willing to take Friday off work to wait for the GC," we wouldn't have been in this mess.

Instead, they dragged their feet and lied to me. In the end, Mrs. Landlord had to take the day off work, drive 170 miles round trip in her giant gas-guzzling SUV to my place, sit in the hot house (without AC) and be so bored out of her mind she cleaned my kitchen.

I have no sympathy for her. She brought this on herself.

The Hot Water Rant

I am officially sick of living in my place. I have not had any hot water since September started.

Warning: Depressing post ahead! Skip and wait for the next post for something cheerier.

There was a gas outage in my area during Labor Day weekend, while I was gone. (This was not the landlord's fault . . . yet).

I realized on Tuesday the 2nd that I had no hot water. I found out that the Gas Company was in the process of restoring services to everyone.

I waited for them to get to my neighborhood. By Thursday I realized something was wrong and I called the GC saying they skipped me. Because I was just a tenant, and not an account holder, they said I could not request service, and my flaky landlord had to make the call. (I can understand this policy any other time, but this is just stupid when the GC knows for sure there is a problem in the neighborhood).

I called the landlord's daughter on Thursday since she was in charge of the GC bill, and left a message. She emailed me Friday saying she was going to contact the GC to send service people.

Then silence.

On Sunday I called Mrs. Landlord. She insisted her daughter didn't tell her there was a problem, but said she will call the GC on Monday morning to make an appointment and call me.

I ended up calling her Monday night, and she said the GC is coming Tuesday afternoon.

I realized she lied about calling when her husband showed up instead. He couldn't figure out the problem, and asked me for the GC account number so that he could call.

Um, no. I don't have it. That's why you're here.

He called his wife and daughter and they ignored his calls. (Gee, now you know how that feels Landlord). He hung around for a bit, desperately making more last-minute, half-assed repairs before some homebuyers showed up that evening.

His wife eventually called, then talked to me, saying that it was not a gas problem, but a problem with the water company. I thought this was ridiculous. She insisted she called some "association" that collected "hot water fees" for the area, and they promised I would have hot water that afternoon.

That evening, I was still taking cold showers. I called Mrs. Landlord, who did not pick up the phone.

Today, Wednesday, I called Mrs. Landlord again, and was told the number was disconnected.

WTF!?

I got ahold of her at a different number. She said she would call the "association" again.

She called back later and said, "I think it is a Gas Company problem. Can you call them?"

1. I told you that a week ago.
2. I tried. I'm not an account holder, remember?

She whined about "having to make all these calls" for me, but did call the GC.

She then informed me that they are coming tomorrow (Thursday the 11th), but did not know what time.

Excuse me? You don't have an appointment? I took Tuesday afternoon off at work to wait for the imaginary GC repairman you lied about, and now you want me to take Thursday off too, and wait at home all day for someone you might be lying about again?

I told her I am going to work and she is taking the day off tomorrow to come wait all day at my house.

If I don't have hot water when I come home tomorrow, things are getting very ugly.

Ring Fund

My former co-worker (who graduated and moved across the world to find a job), is barely 21, but announced to us that he has a "ring fund."

"What?"

"I'm saving up to buy an engagement ring."

"But you don't have a girlfriend."

"So?"

Knowing what we did about him, we found it surprising that he was already planning for marriage.

By the way, so you can get a better mental picture, this is the same guy who was a car seat for Halloween.

He bought a car seat, cut arm and leg holes in it, and invited girls to sit on him.

Strangest Conversation Ever

At work, I met a man with aphasia due to a stroke. He could understand everything I said, but had incredible difficulty finding the right words to articulate what he wanted to say. I work for an educational group that provides science materials, and he wanted to know where to buy a particular item.

The man spent 10 minutes repeating the words "1951," "girl," "dead," "look at," and "splat." He also drew a picture that I thought was a faucet, but I eventually figured out it was a microscope.

I thought for a long time. Then I asked, "You want to buy HeLa human cancer cells to lyse, and for your students to observe under a microscope?"

"Yeah!" He was euphoric that someone finally understood him.

I'm officially psychic.

Mullet King

Today I saw a man with awesome hair. It was the most memorable specimen of a mullet I had ever seen. It was 80's hair band meets afro meets boy band grease mess.

It was not like those limp, weak mullets you sometimes see on guys with less ambitious hairdos. Oh no, this was a full, thick, luxurious mane of hair. It was long, teased and puffed, with a bouffant on the top.

In addition, the whole thing was slicked with hair gel.

Short Man Wearing a Suit, I applaud you. It takes a special brand of ego to walk out the door every morning with hair like that and think, "I look good."