Merry Christmas - part III

dill doe

It's raining outside. Good thing I went running yesterday. I ran 6 or 7 miles. That's the problem with running around and around a park. After awhile you start to forget, "did I run 3 times around or 4?" I think I ran 6 miles, but it may have been 7. Some decent-looking woman who was speed-walking saw me go by several times before finally saying, "you're doing great!"

I don't know what to make of that. What are you supposed to think when a random stranger comments on your workout? Should you think, "I must be a hottie because she wanted to speak to me"?

Or does it just mean that you're so pathetic and handicapped-looking that she thinks you're retarded and in need of someone to push you onward? I never know. All I know is I never yell like that to good-looking women that I see running around the park.

"Nice ass! Keep shakin' it!"

Yeah, but if I did that's probably what I'd say. Maybe it's best that I don't ever speak?

I do nod or wave 'hello' though. I'll do this repeatedly, which becomes uncomfortable after awhile. I mean, at what point do you stop?

I pass the same people over and over again. The first time I wave most people smile and nod or wave back. But since I'm running in the opposite direction as them we'll pass at least twice for each lap I run. On long runs I might pass them 6 or 8 times in a row. How many 'hi's are they entitled to expect? I don't know.

My boss is coming into town today. And I just found out I was supposed to be registered for a big Microsoft event here in Memphis. I frantically got on the phone to try to register, only to be connected to the loudest hold music ever. Apparently most Microsoft programmers are hard of hearing? I can only guess. I lost some hearing at an Iron Maiden concert years ago, but nothing could have prepared me for the blaring Celine Dion that made my ears bleed this morning. I finally found the registration page I needed online and quickly filled it out. The way these things usually go I'll take my registration confirmation form to the event and when I get there they'll stop me and say, "we're all booked up. Sorry."

I'll say, "But I have my registration confirmation, you dipshit."

And he/she/Star Trek will say, "Sorry, there's no more seats available."

And then there will be the most vicious ass-beating the world has ever seen.

Little known fact: most Microsoft programmers and Star Trek fans are not great fighters. They're not even technically 'fighters' at all. They're coders, and that doesn't count for shit in a fight. So anyway, I might get in or I might get arrested, but the thing is I'm registered and I have my confirmation so I'm ready to make trouble if Spock and Xenia try to stop me from getting in.

They've shut down all the strip clubs here in Memphis. Apparently there was a 10 month long sting operation in which Memphis police went undercover into all the top strip joints in town and obtained as many sexual favors as possible. Then, after 10 months worth of blow-jobs, hand-jobs, and straight-up sex, they SLOOOOWLY moved in and closed them all down.

It's things like this that make me regret not having gone ahead and joined my friends in entering the police academy back in college. Sure, I got my degree and might make more money than some of them. But they get paid to get laid and that's hard to argue with, you know what I mean?

pole dancer
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