Quarterlife Mocha Girl

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Moments I'd Like To Forget, But Can't Stop Laughing About

For past week, I have been feeling a yi yi about life. I haven't really had too many laughs. Tomorrow is Friday and in honor of that, I'm going to start laughing out loud. You do know that's what LOL means even though most times when we type it, we're not actually laughing out loud. So, in my quest to lighten myself up, I'll start with the best comical subject I can find: ME.

Yes, yes, people, believe it not, hilarious things ALWAYS happen to me. So I'll give you three scenarios. One is a throwback, the other two are fairly recent.

Cheers To You

A couple of years ago I was on a first date with a hot guy. It was a lovely first date. Great atmosphere, dim lights, good sushi (finally, a man who likes it just as much as I) and even better conversation. For cocktails, I ordered my signature appletini. He later asked did I want to try some sake. He thought I was new to this, but I was a vet in the sushi/sake game. Of course, I'd like some. I don't care for the taste, but the buzz makes it worth it. To my surprise, they'd started serving mint-flavored sake. Yummy!

Before we took our first shot of the sake, we made a toast "to friendship and new beginnings" or something like that. Way to reel me in, huh? Between the conversation, jokes and crunchy crawfish rolls, I was rotating my martini and sake like a blunt. Talking, laughing and sipping. Everythang was everythang!

Then it was time to get up. As soon as I put my weight on my feet to stand, I felt horrible. I. Was. Drunk. While he turned away to talk to the server, I quickly got myself together. Fast forward to the jazz lounge we stopped by. In mid-sentence, I caught a dizzy spell and told him I needed to go to the ladies room. Twenty seconds later, I was locked in the stall, sick as hell. I had two options: Either throw up or pass out. Neither was acceptable for a first date (or second, third or fourth). I camped out there for a good minute, asking myself and God why did I have to double up on martinis and sake. I was literally praying to get me through the rest of the night. Finally, unlocked myself from the claustrophobic stall, freshened up and went back out to the lobby. Evidently, I was looking as crazy as a box of rocks. My date's expression said it all. As Bernie Mac said, he "looked at me like I was short." Then if that wasn't enough, he asked me if I needed to lay down.

Within two hours I'd gone from Sex in the City to Intervention. I guess I made an impression.

She Got Her Own

When I moved from my apartment to my house, I used a moving crew. The "crew" consisted of two guys. A hella young white guy who told me his life story while they were working and a middle-aged black guy who flirted with me while they were working. I didn't have anything to do so I got out of their way and sat in the corner of my dining room and played with my Blackberry. They were in my bedroom moving my dresser and mattress. The black guy had already asked me if I lived alone, was I married or in relationship. Yes, no and no.

On their way out of the door, I noticed they had these peculiar looks on their faces. The black guy, two ends of the mattress in hand asks, "So, can you cook?"

"I can cook enough." That's a codeword for no.

"Can you cook just a little bit?"

How weird is that? Is this damn 20 Questions?

I walked back to my half-empty room to find an empty condom box laying in the middle of my bed frame.


Rolling With The Homies
I never wake up on time to get to work early or even on time. Sometimes I don't pick out my clothes for the next day or even tie my hair up. Last week, every day was one of those days. When I have curls, my closest friends know that I will throw 3-5 rollers randomly in my hair while I'm getting dressed to give limp strands a curl (I use rods, btw, not magnetic rollers). I got dressed, gobbled down my Cinnamon Toast Crunch, pulled the trash to the curb and jumped in my car for my 30 minute commute to work.

After I parked, I hopped on the disgusting, dingy elevator. There was a guy already on. I'd seen him before, but I could tell he was new to the area. Worked a few buildings down from mine. Tall, slim, professional looking. Always has a briefcase overflowing with stuff and a laptop bag. (Damn, I told you I'd seen him before!) Fairly young or young enough. As I stepped in the elevator, he greeted me. I replied with a smile, "I'm great. How are you this morning?"

I had my mp3 player in, jammin to Lady in My Life and noticed that he was staring at me. It wasn't that he was checking me out though. It was this look like, "What the hell?" Why though? I had a cute outfit and my toes had a fresh coat of polish. I ignored him. Finally, he says, "Sooooo, is that a new trend with the ladies?"

"Excuse me?"

"That...roller in the top of your head. Is that a something new?"

Well, I'll be damned! I forgot to the take the roller out!

Let me tell you about this roller. It's not your average roller. It's a neon orange Jherri Curl rod. In plain sight, BIG chilling in my head. How did I miss that in rear view.

I'm too cool to be embarrassed though.

"Oh wow. Somebody was in a hurry this morning! I immediately snatched it out and threw it in my work bag."That's a Monday for you. Thank you and have a good day!"

If I'd had Bewitched powers, I'd wiggle my nose to disappear into thin air.

Only me. Only me.


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