:: Life on Planet Dan-E ::

:: So Now What? ::

I did my usual Wednesday night tennis thing. I wanted to get my mind off of my current unemployment status and beating the crap out of a little yellow ball seemed like a good idea. I get there and start warming up. Once we get split up I noticed a girl in a blue tennis outfit that's also playing on our court. She's kinda cute but I only noticed since the advanced clinic is usually a pickle farm.

As it turns out, she's pretty good and possesses a killer backhand (and that's not a metaphor for "she has nice legs," though there is that). While picking up balls we make eye contact. Normally, I'd probably just smile a little and keep picking up balls but instead I smile and ask, "How's it going?" She smiles back and says "hi."

I try to make some casual conversation with her between drills by starting off with "you have a nice backhand. Where'd you learn to play?" (Seriously, I have no game.) Fortunately she gives me more than just short, curt answers. If anything, she's laid-back and chatty, and has an easy smile. I find out she's from Chicago, lived in Miami for many years, is a school teacher, and likes Da Bears.

Once the clinic is over, I approach her to get her number. Only thing is, I left my cell phone at home - I never bring it with me when I play - and I didn't have a pen. So I ask her for her phone and she hands it over; I punch in my number and press dial.

"That's my number, and now I should have yours."

"Cool, I'm gonna save it." She flashes that smile again.

"Alright, I'll call you about Saturday."

"Bye."

"See ya."

(And this is despite the fact that I'm dripping with sweat, probably smell funny, and sporting a patchy two-week old facial shrub. Either my personality won out or she *really* doesn't care about looks. I'm guessing the latter.)

After she walks away, I pack up my rackets with a stupid grin on my face. I get home and grab my phone and... nothing. Absolutely nothing. WTF. It should have said "1 missed call" but there was NOTHING. How did it not go through? I pressed the green button! Did she have bad reception? Did she save the number too quickly?! I guess it's irrelevant because there was NOTHING.

So now what do I do? If I see her again at the clinic, she's going to think I'm just another asshole that doesn't call. (I mean, I can be an asshole but I usually call.) Just my luck. This is why I sometimes hate technology. Anyway, I'm gonna go self-immolate.

Labels: dating, girls, please just shoot me, tennis, wtf

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 10:05 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: My Eyes! ::

Ever since I got this new job, things haven't gone well for my eyewear. The first thing that happened was losing one of my favorite pairs of Oakleys during the first week of training. It was partly my own fault for forgetting to take them home with me at night but they were in a very specific spot behind the bar and not anyone can just go back there. Oh well.

Later, I lose one of my contact lenses in a freak incident when I get to work. I walk in, wipe the sweat from my brow, and take off my sunglasses. When I blink I feel the left lens pop out and hit the floor. I spent a good half hour on my knees trying to find them.

If you're wondering how that could happen, I wear rigid gas permeable contacts; they tend to move around somewhat in the eye and if you blink while your eye is at a certain angle, they can pop out.

But I've never lost a pair before. Yes they've popped out many times in some very inopportune places (playing tennis or football, driving down I-5 in 6:00 traffic, in the kitchen while I'm cooking with the stove at full blast) but I've always recovered them. Not this time.

Luckily, I had a back up pair of soft lenses that used for about a month. I went in to the optometrist to get a new pair (a little over $200 with the eye exam and a fresh pair of lenses) on Saturday. Sunday, I wake up with a sore throat and a case of Conjunctivitis a.k.a. Pink Eye. Just fucking great.

I buy some eye drops while grocery shopping but when I go to pick up my new lenses this afternoon, the optometrist notices my eye and makes me sit for a $75 eye exam to confirm the obvious. At which point he writes out a prescription for a tiny bottle on antibiotic eye drops that cost another $99.

(Did I mention I don't have health insurance? Thank you Economic Stimulus Check.)

Needless to say, it's been a bit off for me lately.

Labels: eyes, oakleys, please just shoot me

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 6:48 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: That Really Sucked ::

A part of me just died.

There's always next year though. We have a solid foundation, the young players will have another year of experience under their belt, and... who are we kidding. I'm drinking myself into a stupor tonight.

Labels: anger, baseball, lakers, please just shoot me, sports

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:06 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: That Sucked ::

After suffering through mediocre seasons from my Dodgers and abject misery from my 49ers, my Lakers gave me some hope this season that I'll finally witness something that won't make bitter and depressed.

We started strong.

We made a ridiculously one-sided trade in the real, professional sports world that made every wonder how the hell we pulled that off. (If someone even attempted this in a Fantasy League it would be automatically rejected and cause profanity-laced diatribes on the message boards for weeks)

Kobe finally won his MVP.

The Lakers cruised through the playoffs into a finals bout with the Celtics that revitalized the historic feud that peaked and died in the 80s.

The Celtics won the first two games, which was okay because good teams are supposed to win their home games. The Lakers did so in Game 3. We were going to have a good series.

And then THIS happened.

Good thing I was working tonight because even though it was deader than the nerve endings on Briana Bank's vulva, it was less painful than watching this game. If I watched this at a sports bar, I'd have been kicked out for unruly behavior including - but not limited to - excessive shouting, breaking stuff, hurling glasses, and punching anyone wearing green. (And this is the kind of place where coke deals go down in the patio, so you have to really do some dumb shit to get booted.)

If I watched this at home, my TV, tennis racket, various glasses, and several empty bottles of beer would be broken (kinda like my will to live at this point) and the relatively new bottle of Jameson's (1.75) would be drained.

I'm only slightly exaggerating.

As it is now, I'm going to finish my (pint)glass of whisky and stop typing before I really write something I'll regret. If my Lakers lose this series, I'm going to punch myself in the stomach, slam my head against the stove while it's lit, and then hurl my body in front of a bus after I light it on fire. Then once my soul leaves my battered corpse, I'm going to reach out, grab that soul, pull it back down, rip off my charred arm and beat the soul to death with that arm.

If you think I'm being melodramatic, you need to know that we were up by TWENTY FOUR POINTS.

Labels: anger, basketball, drinking, lakers, please just shoot me, sports, threw up in my mouth, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 2:13 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Job Search: Following Up ::

I'm gonna stop numbering the "Job Search" title because it's getting demoralizing.

One of the most frustrating parts of this job search was the number interviews that seem like they went well, which ended with the interviewer telling me something like, "I'll call you soon to let you know what's going on" or "I'll call you to let you know when you can start training." Only to have those be dead ends.

If you remember my post from Day 2, I seemed optimistic at that time because out of the ten or so places I went to, two managers out of the three or four I talked to gave me those replies. Both were duds. Since then, I've had three other interviews. Two of them were the same result. One of them was the hotel and the fact that they at least got back to me, even to let me know I've been rejected, was at least a relief.

I'm racking my brain trying to figure out what I'm doing wrong. It's the way I've always been. If something goes wrong, my first thought goes to what I could have done differently. I wrote yesterday "I have a good work history, my references are solid, I dressed fairly professionally, I possess a resume and a coverletter (and my own pen), I have a firm handshake, I maintain eye contact during interviews, and I don't do drugs. But that's not enough."

It bothers me that I'm getting this type of flaky behavior from supervisors. They give me the impression that I'm hired; yet I'm not. It's either that or they just don't have the gall to let me know they'd rather go with someone else.

Maybe I should have sent a thank you note... hmm... maybe, but I don't think that would be a determining factor. Did they found out I got fired from my last job? Could be, but there's been a few people that got fired for showing up drunk or high on drugs, or getting into shouting matches with managers, things far more egregious than anything I did, that found jobs elsewhere.

Perhaps it's my follow-up calls? I called back to each one, trying to seem ambitious and eager for having done so, but now I'm wondering if I maybe came off as desperate. But wouldn't you want to err on the side of wanting to work? I don't know. I thought I was doing this properly and professionally but I'm missing something.

Labels: anger, frustration, job search, please just shoot me

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 9:45 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Job Search: Day 11 ::

My interview at the hotel seemed to work out okay since I got a call today for a second interview. It's one of those posh hotels on Ocean Drive that has a restaurant out front. I knew it was posh because the first time I walked in, I noticed a medley of oddly colored and shaped furniture in the lobby. There were also a guy and a girl at the door, whose sole job responsibility was to open the doors for people coming and going.

That and a while back, I went there with a friend to the bar at the terrace and had to pay eight dollars for a damn Newcastle.

It's owned by a hotel corporation so the multiple interviews wasn't surprising. What was surprising was the sheer number of people I had to talk to. Just for a job as the morning waiter (which, I have to admit, from the way they described it, the job might bore me. But I'm trying not to be picky. I just want to work.) There's the guy who called me both times who I think was one of the hotel H.R. directors. The lady who interviewed me (who made me wait almost ten minutes) was I think either another H.R. person or a manger I'm not sure. I talked with her about fifteen minutes and tried not to be distracted by the fact that she was a tiny, somewhat attractive Asian woman (even though her last name was "Brown" which threw me off) with a Southern accent.

Once we finished talking she told me that I'd be talking to another guy who actually works at the restaurant. Oh, okay. I wait for another ten minutes and I look over one of the more curious pieces of "furniture." I'm honestly not sure if it's for sitting on, putting your feet up, or some kinky sex furniture for weird positions. I spent the next three minutes imagining the possibilities until the guy finally comes down (and I tell myself if I get hired, I'm gonna steal one of those things).

The guy who turns out to be the Wine and Liquor (I think that's what he said) Director and he has a light Boston accent with a little bit of a lisp. We talk for another fifteen minutes and he gives me a more complete description of the restaurant as well as my job responsibilities (I know for sure I'm going to be bored) and asks questions about my work history, which he seems impressed by somewhat. I answer whatever questions he has (though I may have left out the whole thing about getting fired). We finish up and he tells me that he's going to have me come in for a second interview so I can talk to the restaurant manager, the restaurant H.R. guy, and I think he mentioned something about Emeril, I'm not sure.

I figure I at least passed the first round of tests so it's a good sign, I think. (Though I've been through this crap before and nothing happened so I'm not getting my hopes up.) I look at my clock and it's almost eleven.

I walk around some more and fill out applications at a few other place and get more of the same (we're not hiring but you can fill out an application). I talk to a few mangers, I get a possible lead, but as it is, this hotel restaurant seems my best bet. I just hope they don't make me cut my hair.

Labels: hair, job search, please just shoot me

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:29 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Is she Interested or is She just Nice? ::

If there's one aspect of dating (one of many, really) that I've been bad at, it's reading women's signals. My restaurant recently hired an attractive new hostess that all the straight guys that work there are drooling over. If I didn't have all this neurosis to deal with I'd probably be drooling along. We talk like friendly co-workers do: hi how are you, how was your week; did you see "No Country for Old Men" yet; good night dork. The other guys are more obvious about flirting with her.

She's in her early 20s, energetic, and quite gregarious. So I don't read into anything when she tells me about her family, friends, and other stuff since she shares that stuff with pretty much everyone. Now, here's where my confusion starts and the reason for writing this post:

Management decided to let her train as a server to replace a guy that quit. I wish her luck and help her when I can without actually doing anything for her. At the end of her first night of training, she asks me if we can walk home together (we live a few blocks from each other) and say "sure." I want make a small detour to Pita Plus on Washington to get some take out. She agrees immediately. We end up eating there and talking some more (she talks, I listen). When our food is up I get ready to pay (for my own stuff, since at no point this whole time did I think this was a date of any sort), except she starts reaching into her purse and says "I'll get this." "Huh? What? Why?" The clerk interjects tells us we don't have to pay until after we're done eating (I'm there all the time). "You don't have to buy me dinner." She just shakes her head.

During dinner, she asks me if I can help her study for her waiter test. I get this brief moment of nostalgia where I'm back in college but once that passes I say "sure, if I'm free that day." No big deal, as long as it doesn't interfere with the Football Playoffs. We keep talking, we get to movies and I ask her about "Cloverfield." I mention I'm thinking about seeing it this weekend and unprompted, she says "I'll go see it with you." I raise my eyebrows. "Sure, if you want..." "...if that's what you were getting at. I always do that; some of my friends might say we're going to do this and that and I'll say 'sure I can make it' and he's like 'we weren't gonna invite you. this is guy's night." I just reply, "sure you can come."

The whole time, I was just enjoying her company, but that's when I realized something: Is she nervous? Why would she be nervous? She was always energetic and chatty but she seemed even chattier than normal. Or maybe I was tired and my perception was off. Anyway, we've so far established that I'm helping her study and we're going to see "Cloverfield" and I did almost nothing to prompt it. With me so far? (I'm still trying to figure this out myself.)

She notices the clerk cleaning up his counter and she stats digging in her giant bag for her purse. Again she offers to pay, again I protest. I don’t recall doing anything to deserve a free dinner, and I’m not used to stuff like this happening. She finally says, "you can get it next time we go out." Wait, next time? (I'm not kidding when I tell people that I'm not good at planning ahead. After I post this, I might watch Australian Open Tennis, I might go to sleep, or I might take dump. I just don't know. Or maybe she assumes a lot.)

She pays, I finish my shawarma pita and we walk home. She said some odd questions and comments that night; "Is this your normal walking pace? I walk fast, too. Are you religious? I like to walk around my apartment naked.” And this: “You know, when your hair is down, it really changes the structure of your face." (That's what she said, verbatim. Naturally my response was a confused "um, really?")

When we get to my street, I tell her good night and thanks for dinner. We kiss on the cheek and walk to our apartments. The last two blocks I'm wondering what exactly happened that night. I worked a 13-hour double and while I enjoyed her company, she has a lot of energy and I was drained.

The next night, it's business as usual. The TV is set on Fashion TV and "Midnight Hot" comes on. There are always thongs, usually there's sideboob, sometimes there's full boobage. There was a feature with a curvy brunette wearing a black thong and a see-through halter. Good thing it was late and the crowd thinned out because the four straight guys on the floor were ensorcelled by the model and none of us were getting any work done. We were standing around each other - possibly drooling - and if you saw us you'd probably laugh at how ridiculous it was.

I snap out of it when I the hostess smacks my arm from behind and says "alright boys, that's enough." She said "boys" yet I'm the only one that gets hit; what's up with that? I just turn my head, give my innocent smile. I turn back to the screen and she says sarcastically (I think) "if you're wondering, yes I'm jealous." None of us reply because now the model is bent over a coffee table and we’re catatonic. It stays like this for a minute till the manager sees and yells "get back to work!"

Anyway, I'm supposed to meet her Saturday to help her study and see "Cloverfield" (as long as she doesn't flake. She told me she's flakey and I made other plans anyway). As I went to bed that night, I'm wondering: Is she just looking for new friends? She just moved here. Is she just nice? Does she have a crush on me? What does that even mean? Is Saturday a date or are we just hanging out? (Yes, I'm THAT lost. Sad, isn't it?) Either way, I fall asleep with a goofy smile on my face.

Labels: big ass, boobs, dating, girls, hair, I'm an idiot, please just shoot me, the hostess

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:17 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: One of my New Year's Resolutions... ::

... No more Jägermeister. Ever. My friends and I went out drinking after work during New Year's Eve. I was fine till one of them ordered Jäger shots.

Everything after that was a blur. Seriously, what's in that shit?

Labels: alkie, drinking, I'm an idiot, please just shoot me

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:56 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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