There I was sitting at my desk, surfing the web, fake rat in hand when some young sap walked into my office, confused about which door to enter. He began with some sort of spiel about Gold’s Gym, working out, trial memberships, blah, blah, blah. I told the fella, I wasn’t interested in a membership, but thanks. -You gotta give it to these door to door folks. This is something I could never do in a million years; I don’t have the fortitude. My tail would remain permanently fixed between my legs- THEN he started telling how I could look better and didn’t I want to look better!? “I already look good”, was my response. By the way, this jerk was wearing white dress shoes.
Ah, and this reminded of a situation that played out four or so years ago…with another Gold’s Gym person.
I was working another shitty customer service job, had recently called things off with a young man I had previously agreed to marry and for some reason decided I should date around, keeping an open mind. I hate dating.
There was this rumor going around at the time and for all I know could still be buzzing around; someone(s) claimed I have “commitment issues”. Yeah, Mom was in on it, too. Let me clarify things, not that justification is needed. I’m willing to bend and have a high tolerance, but I can only do/handle so much before I have to bounce. The committing isn’t the problem, it’s compatibility.
Anyway, like I was trying to say until I got side tracked by one of my hot button issues :)
There was this Gold’s Gym promo guy buzzing around my office and somehow, he suckered me into a date, although I’m not the biggest fan of red heads. Remember, I was being open-minded!
The putz didn’t even pick me up; instead, I met him at this house to watch a movie. Mind you, this was when I was still naïve in thinking watching a movie was, well, watching a movie. How was I supposed to know “watching a movie” translates into “you’re gonna come over and I’m going to ravage you like the hot piece of ass you are”? None of this went on, so let’s move on.
At his house, he proceeded to impress me with his H2O consumption. Yeah, one of those, “I drink 50 gallons of water a day, cook solely on the Foreman and don’t eat past 7 PM” dick heads. Needless to say, he had no Pepsi on hand.
To make a long story short, I spent the evening sitting on the most uncomfortable couch ever, watching a lousy movie, bottle of water in hand. This is was first and final date.
I am thankful this translation wasn't necessary for this one and there is no point to this story, except that I could look better....