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kybearfuzzThe weekend was a pretty full one, full of good times and odd occurrences. It's pretty long, so I put everything behind a cut to save space. There's also a work-safe hero toon behind there.
The Mystery of the Missing Gym Membership
Things started off with a Saturday visit to my gym. On my way out of the locker room after my workout, I saw a sign stating that they were going to charge me a "gym improvement" fee, I decided that enough was enough. I was paying more than most at the gym and I'd not noticed any improvements there in months. In fact, things had gone downhill for years there.
So after a shower and lunch, I went there to cancel my membership, but had left my membership tag on my gym bag at home. Jayson the clerk tried looking me up by my last name, then my address, then even by the morning check-in from earlier that day. He couldn't find me in the system. I'd been a member of the gym since 2001, now I wasn't. The teenager who checked me in that morning, hired pretty much for her looks I think, had scanned my tag that morning and didn't even look at the screen. Just waived me on with a chipper "Have a good workout, 'kay!" I returned with the tag later and still Jayson the clerk couldn't find me.
So, I am a man without a gym. I checked my credit card and bank statements. I haven't been charged a gym membership in months, not since I "updated" my credit card info this summer. After the holidays, I'll start looking at other gyms in the area, some of them are offering some good deals.
Dinner and the Santaland Diaries
Brian (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cincycub) and I got reservations to see a local production of the The Santaland Diaries. I made it to the restaurant far ahead of schedule, so I grabbed my sketchbook to pass the time. It started out as a usual hero type thing, but then I thought about having a compete f-up type of hero. Like Bitchie Ann McSourpuss, I thought I might do a character that represents a bit of me. As she tends to represent my sour dating life, Captain FUBAR here (left, click for bigger) represents my periodic cluelessness and the occasional screw-ups I make during those times. He may look happy while he's flying about, but he's about to crash into a billboard. Why? Because he's flying with his eyes closed.
Brian showed up and we had a good vegetarian dinner, then drove over to the theater. "The Santaland Diaries," was the first half of the show and was really fun. The actor who did the show looked like a smaller, skinnier version of Carrot Top. His eyes and mannerisms actually made me think of Bette Davis. The second half of the show was David Sedaris' "Seasons Greetings to Our Friends & Families" with the same actor playing the role of Jocelyn Dunbar. She was taping a Christmas greeting to her friends and family relaying the stressful events of her life over the last two months, including the discovery of a Vietnamese step-daughter who drives her crazy. In this part, the same actor was in a white page-boy wig and long skirt and reminded me of Sophia Petrillo. The fact this actor memorized two hours worth of solo dialogue was impressive. It was a very good show.
Hello Blocked Caller
Sunday morning I got up late and slowly got ready to finish the Christmas shopping. My cell phone rang with the caller listed as "Blocked." I didn't answer the first time. Then the phone rang again with "blocked." I thought that maybe it was a family member, so I answered it.
"Hello?" a graveled voice said.
"Hello," I responded, "who is this?"
"Who is this?" he asked.
"You called me," I stated, "So, tell me who you're trying to reach."
He grumbled something I couldn't understand and then said, "Lisa..?"
"There's no Lisa here," I said, "in fact, there are no women here at all. You have the wrong number."
"Well, [incoherent name] game me the number," he stammered, obviously drunk, I figured.
"Sorry," I said, "still the wrong number. Look I'm on my way out, so take care."
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To finish up my Christmas shopping," I replied annoyed, "so have a good one."
I hang up and get my shoes and coat. So I'm about out the door when he calls again.
"Merry Christmas!" he slurred.
I tried to be nice, "Merry Christmas," I said, "What can I do for you?"
"What are you buying me?" he asked.
"I have enough to buy for," I said, "You have the wrong number still."
So after another few seconds of disorganized chatting, and I hung up.
I wasn't even out of my subdivision in the car before he called again. I'd had enough. As I've said before, I'm not much for phone chatting, even less when driving, and far worse when it's someone annoying. I pulled up to a stop sign and answered it.
"Hello," I growled.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Look, what the hell do you want from me??" I yelled, "I don't F@CKING know you so why the hell do you want to talk to me! You have the wrong number, so stop calling me, you F@CKING IDIOT!"
And not another call since... if he knows what's good for him.
High Chick at the Dollar Store
Sunday afternoon, after I finished my Christmas shopping at JCPenney, Best Buy, the Party Source, and Kroger's, I drove over to the Dollar Store. I do this every year, going there to buy boxes, bows, and tape for wrapping gifts.
As I load up my arms with wrapping stuff, I heard this hyper voice. In the aisle, there was a skinny 40-something lady talking to an older couple about the responsibility of raising a dog. Thinking that she knew the couple, I ignored it and shopped a bit more.
As I'm went toward the register, I saw this same woman bagging her own stuff on the opposing counter. I figured she worked there as she spoke so familiarly with the cashier. Eventually I found myself behind her in line.
My arms were full of stuff and I find my grip on certain items grew tenuous at best. The lady continued to jabber with the cashier and I kept thinking, "Geez lady, wrap it up, there are people behind you."
So then she realized she didn't have enough money and has to put something back, but what? So she spent more and more time trying to figure it out while discussing needing to muzzle her dog as it kept eating her son's socks, all the while, my hold on a Diet Coke grew weaker.
Finally she figured out what she could live without, paid the cashier and moved her stuff. I put my stuff down and she walked out the door. Once outside, she continued to talk... to the display of snow shovels.
From the irritated look of cashier and the odd behavior of the lady, I figured that she didn't work there, but there was something wrong with her. I joked with the cashier that she was still outside.
"She's a prime example why pot should not be legalized," the cashier said.
"Huh?" I replied.
"Oh yeah," he started, "as she came in, she asked me where she could find a bag that had hidden pockets to store her weed."
Nice, I thought....
The Mystery of the Missing Gym Membership
Things started off with a Saturday visit to my gym. On my way out of the locker room after my workout, I saw a sign stating that they were going to charge me a "gym improvement" fee, I decided that enough was enough. I was paying more than most at the gym and I'd not noticed any improvements there in months. In fact, things had gone downhill for years there.
So after a shower and lunch, I went there to cancel my membership, but had left my membership tag on my gym bag at home. Jayson the clerk tried looking me up by my last name, then my address, then even by the morning check-in from earlier that day. He couldn't find me in the system. I'd been a member of the gym since 2001, now I wasn't. The teenager who checked me in that morning, hired pretty much for her looks I think, had scanned my tag that morning and didn't even look at the screen. Just waived me on with a chipper "Have a good workout, 'kay!" I returned with the tag later and still Jayson the clerk couldn't find me.
So, I am a man without a gym. I checked my credit card and bank statements. I haven't been charged a gym membership in months, not since I "updated" my credit card info this summer. After the holidays, I'll start looking at other gyms in the area, some of them are offering some good deals.
Dinner and the Santaland Diaries
Brian (cincycub) and I got reservations to see a local production of the The Santaland Diaries. I made it to the restaurant far ahead of schedule, so I grabbed my sketchbook to pass the time. It started out as a usual hero type thing, but then I thought about having a compete f-up type of hero. Like Bitchie Ann McSourpuss, I thought I might do a character that represents a bit of me. As she tends to represent my sour dating life, Captain FUBAR here (left, click for bigger) represents my periodic cluelessness and the occasional screw-ups I make during those times. He may look happy while he's flying about, but he's about to crash into a billboard. Why? Because he's flying with his eyes closed.Brian showed up and we had a good vegetarian dinner, then drove over to the theater. "The Santaland Diaries," was the first half of the show and was really fun. The actor who did the show looked like a smaller, skinnier version of Carrot Top. His eyes and mannerisms actually made me think of Bette Davis. The second half of the show was David Sedaris' "Seasons Greetings to Our Friends & Families" with the same actor playing the role of Jocelyn Dunbar. She was taping a Christmas greeting to her friends and family relaying the stressful events of her life over the last two months, including the discovery of a Vietnamese step-daughter who drives her crazy. In this part, the same actor was in a white page-boy wig and long skirt and reminded me of Sophia Petrillo. The fact this actor memorized two hours worth of solo dialogue was impressive. It was a very good show.
Hello Blocked Caller
Sunday morning I got up late and slowly got ready to finish the Christmas shopping. My cell phone rang with the caller listed as "Blocked." I didn't answer the first time. Then the phone rang again with "blocked." I thought that maybe it was a family member, so I answered it.
"Hello?" a graveled voice said.
"Hello," I responded, "who is this?"
"Who is this?" he asked.
"You called me," I stated, "So, tell me who you're trying to reach."
He grumbled something I couldn't understand and then said, "Lisa..?"
"There's no Lisa here," I said, "in fact, there are no women here at all. You have the wrong number."
"Well, [incoherent name] game me the number," he stammered, obviously drunk, I figured.
"Sorry," I said, "still the wrong number. Look I'm on my way out, so take care."
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To finish up my Christmas shopping," I replied annoyed, "so have a good one."
I hang up and get my shoes and coat. So I'm about out the door when he calls again.
"Merry Christmas!" he slurred.
I tried to be nice, "Merry Christmas," I said, "What can I do for you?"
"What are you buying me?" he asked.
"I have enough to buy for," I said, "You have the wrong number still."
So after another few seconds of disorganized chatting, and I hung up.
I wasn't even out of my subdivision in the car before he called again. I'd had enough. As I've said before, I'm not much for phone chatting, even less when driving, and far worse when it's someone annoying. I pulled up to a stop sign and answered it.
"Hello," I growled.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Look, what the hell do you want from me??" I yelled, "I don't F@CKING know you so why the hell do you want to talk to me! You have the wrong number, so stop calling me, you F@CKING IDIOT!"
And not another call since... if he knows what's good for him.
High Chick at the Dollar Store
Sunday afternoon, after I finished my Christmas shopping at JCPenney, Best Buy, the Party Source, and Kroger's, I drove over to the Dollar Store. I do this every year, going there to buy boxes, bows, and tape for wrapping gifts.
As I load up my arms with wrapping stuff, I heard this hyper voice. In the aisle, there was a skinny 40-something lady talking to an older couple about the responsibility of raising a dog. Thinking that she knew the couple, I ignored it and shopped a bit more.
As I'm went toward the register, I saw this same woman bagging her own stuff on the opposing counter. I figured she worked there as she spoke so familiarly with the cashier. Eventually I found myself behind her in line.
My arms were full of stuff and I find my grip on certain items grew tenuous at best. The lady continued to jabber with the cashier and I kept thinking, "Geez lady, wrap it up, there are people behind you."
So then she realized she didn't have enough money and has to put something back, but what? So she spent more and more time trying to figure it out while discussing needing to muzzle her dog as it kept eating her son's socks, all the while, my hold on a Diet Coke grew weaker.
Finally she figured out what she could live without, paid the cashier and moved her stuff. I put my stuff down and she walked out the door. Once outside, she continued to talk... to the display of snow shovels.
From the irritated look of cashier and the odd behavior of the lady, I figured that she didn't work there, but there was something wrong with her. I joked with the cashier that she was still outside.
"She's a prime example why pot should not be legalized," the cashier said.
"Huh?" I replied.
"Oh yeah," he started, "as she came in, she asked me where she could find a bag that had hidden pockets to store her weed."
Nice, I thought....
