PlazaJen: Passion Knit

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Bitch, Bitch, Bitch!

Man, everything I wanna write about is a complaint. I'm glad the weather's started to change - but it's still gonna be in the 80's later this week. (I see they've backed down from "86" to the low 80s, that kinda took the wind out of my sails. But don't worry! I'll carry on kvetching!)

I was behind a chevy cavalier at the Wendy's drive-thru at lunch, and I realized JUST how much I profile people based on their driving behavior, their car, and where they're from. Show me a KC MO resident (at least 10 yrs) who doesn't see a JOCO sticker on a Kansas plate and make judgments. Well, I'm more guilty of doing it when there's a "WY" on those KS plates.... Wyandotte, aka, the Dot. Had I not noticed that plate, I'd have sworn these two lovebirds had taken a break from cooking meth in Independence and went for a drive for a Frosty. But no, not just a Frosty. Some sort of specialty tweaker drive-through special that required the longest conversation I have EVER seen, all the while she's twisting her stringy hair around and around and around while her boyfriend slouched in the front seat, opened the door to spit, and continued to chime in on the ordering process. Let me tell you what. Special orders? They upset US. I was so irritated I ordered a mandarin chicken sandwich. (That doesn't exist. But it does come as a salad. And is quite tasty!)
And a frosty. Vanilla. Yum.

But that hasn't succeeded in soothing this savage beast. Why? Because it's raining outside, and while my friends at say it's all of 61 degrees F out there? THE HEAT IS NOW ON in our offices. And Glenn Frey can SUCK IT. And the heat is on what, you asked? Not just a little, to take us up to whatever these hot blooded people like, surely above my comfort zone of 68, but ok, even if it were 70-72? But no. It's BLASTING. I thought I was getting ill, until I asked my neighbor if she had noticed a definitive warming in the office.

I was eating my lunch and realized my iTunes had rolled through into Phil Collins. Now, no disrespect to the balding buddha of ballads, but dude, the last thing I needed today was your plaintive, earnest tunes about how we'll just go on li----ving ..... sep---arate lives. Finally. Something I can control. I've switched to rap. Bust'n caps in yo' asses. (I had to explain to a co-worker yesterday what "NWA" stood for. Gah. My life! Nobody else can live it quite like me, eh?)

I can't WAIT to see what happens in the next hour.
Signing off,
Comtessa Von CrankyPants


posted by PlazaJen, 2:08 PM