Clash of the Worlds!!

What a nice lunch—I met Sugarmama (not her real name, by the way) over by the statue of John Harbert, which perfectly captures in bronze the full effect of what it’s like to have rigor mortis. I know the family loves the statue, and I’m sure the sculptor thought it was a grand piece, but it is rare (outside of various Third World dictatorships) to find the human form portrayed so lifelessly in the medium of statuary. At least he’s not hailing a cab.

ANYway, Miss Sugarmama was looking lovely as usual and was in her normal good spirits. We went in and decided to sample the scrumptious ethnic flair provided by Chan Lee’s. She got the sesame chicken, I the kung pao, and soon I was a large puddle of hot, sweaty, sniffling, molten lava. I have a feeling this is going to be with me for a while—the combined effects of whole red peppers and the BC Powders I’ve been eating all day to quiet my ankle pain promise a night full of fireworks.

Before all of that, though, we stood there waiting on our food, and SM commented about how the whole food court was giving her the meat market willies. Hey, just because hundreds of guys keep staring at your bosomal region doesn’t mean they’re thinking naughty thoughts! (In this case, however, I think she was right. Please, guys, a tip—it would be a lot easier on all of us if you would be a bit more discreet in your ogling. If you do it to the point of creeping out another guy, it’s probably best to dial it down a bit.)

Conversation swung wildly back and forth, and we talked about work, and house stuff, and former jobs, and that she once worked in an architect’s office for about ten months.

“Oh, cool! Where at?” She answered (and no, you won’t hear me repeat the name of the company), and I replied, “What a coincidence! That’s where Jeff, the guy I sometimes write about, you know My Friend Jeff ™? That’s where he works!”

“Uhhh, how long ago did he start?”

“Been about four years or so,” and I gave her his full name.

She looked as though she had been hit by a bus. “He hates me.”

What an incredibly tiny little world! What are the odds, huh?!

“HEY COOL! HE HATES ME, TOO!” Unfortunately, she was serious—when pressed for details about how it came to be that his antipathy waxed strong against her, the best I could figure out is that she worked for one of the partners he is less than fond of, and the hatred-by-association just came as a natural impulse. I’m going to call him right now and find out for sure…

The little pill’s not in the office. ::sigh:: Well, I WILL find out the rest of this story—it promises to be a good one!

So, we discussed how it was that Jeff and I know each other, which is through our mutual employment oh-so-long-ago by The Bad Place. Sugarmama noted that the architecture biz seems to be a bit heavy with anti-womanosity. “Hey, just because hundreds of guys…” Oh, wait—already used that line. Actually, she’s right, at least when talking about some of the smaller, old-line companies. The Bad Place where Jeff and I used to work had a similar bias, and while some might want to give such behavior the old ‘boys will be boys’ chuck under the chin, that’s really not the way to treat employees.

Further compressing the size of the earth (and providing no small amount of levity) was when she endeavored to reveal to me the name of the guy where she worked who gave her the ickiest feeling, and I guessed the old goat’s name before she even gave me a hint! (He’s one of those who gives me the creeps, too.) I tried my best to reassure her that Jeff didn’t really hate her, though. He’s just that way. I don't think she bought it.

Onward then, and we managed to cover grad school stuff, financial planning, house cleaning, interpersonal relationships, blogging, teenagers (she was once one, it turns out), being weird—and accepting is as your lot in life, and…and then it was time to go back to work. ::sigh::

BUT, seeing as how I behaved myself, looks like I’ll be able to swing another lunch! It pays to be on your best behavior, you know.

AND SPEAKING OF WHICH, my ongoing stalking project of the voluptuous Miss Nikki from the teevee station is still continuing—I've had to reschedule so many times now that I would feel really bad about insisting that she bring me all of those FOX-logoed coffee mugs and shirts and stuff she promised. Not bad enough to refuse them, mind you…
posted by Terry at 2:07:00 PM