30 September 2009

The One Word to Make Lunch Even More Uncomfortable

Today was the dreaded lunch with Twit and Ex-cop. It had been agreed that we would go to lunch at 12:30pm after originally setting it for 1pm. They asked me for restaurant recommendations, and I went for the what-I-won't-eat route (Asian, Indian and seafood/fish being at the top of that list). I may have mentioned if it has cheese, it's good to me. Twit recommends a southern-comfort food place, which was fine with me.

I started getting extremely anxious around 12:15pm. Hands were shaking, got sweaty even though I was cold, a bit of dry mouth and serious adrenaline coursing through me. I took half a Klonopin and told myself to calm the fuck down. I messed around for a bit, and 12:30pm slowly, agonizingly slowly crawled by and creeped towards 1pm. Ex-cop wasn't even in his office (I went and got some water just so I could check).

Finally Ex-cop showed up with Ex-cop Lackey in tow (henceforth to be known as ECL). Of course ECL was invited to join us. Then there was a lot of "Are you ready" and door-holding by the ex-cops. We take a company-owned SUV that I always assumed was new, but actually it is just really clean. The front passenger door has to be coddled in to opening for you. So there was a lot of fuss over that and ECL nominated me to sit in the front seat, which was quite a relief for two reasons: 1) I had zero interest in sitting next to Twit since she would try to talk to me, and 2) I realized on the way out of the building that ECL really stinks. Old-man stink. Mothballs and sourness. Dusty even. His smell was totally assailing my senses with though of nursing homes. The SUV was parked near the wall of the parking garage, and ECL felt that Ex-cop would have to drive forward so I could get in the vehicle. I resisted the urge to ask him if he thought my ass was too fat to squeeze between the wall and the door; instead I proved to him just what a 105lb person can do with a bubble butt. I got in through that door just fine.

Ex-cop made sure the AC was on as high as it would go, and I was quite relieved that I was wearing my denim jacket. I worked on not frowning and making my face a little more blank instead of looking constipated. Initial conversation focused on the training Ex-cop and ECL had just returned from--something like violence in the workplace. Yet, they only talked about workplace dating. I did not participate in this conversation, but Twit made a lot of agreeing noises and said things like, "Uh huh," and "It does cause trouble!" and the real jewel, "Some places frown on it." Every time she said something, she was very sure to punctuate it with her donkey-braying laugh. Again, I worked at keeping my face from showing violent twitches. There was some discussion on how there's even more problem when work couples split and one of the individuals start dating another person in the workplace. I guess I've worked at too many small businesses, because I have never remotely seen this happen. I kept all opinions on the subject to myself. Ex-cop asked if any of us were going to a 3-day concert happening this weekend. I ever-so-slightly shook my head, but was unable to verbalize anything. No one else was going, but discussed going in the past and other related banalities. I slept in my head during this time.

When we arrived at restaurant approximately 10 mins later, it should be noted that Ex-cop UNBUCKLED his seatbelt when we entered the parking lot, even though he still had to drive around a few minutes before actually parking. I tried to escape the vehicle, but seems it can only be opened from the outside. Really safe, you know, if you're in an accident and trapped in the car.

We are sat at a small table inches away from Forestry Service guys. I totally wish I could have sat with them. They were instantly more pleasant. Twit sat across from me, and ECL next to me and Ex-cop across from him. Did I mention the table was small? ECL's elbows kept hitting me and his smell kept confronting me with some jabs to my sinuses. I turned to look at him at one point, his face was maybe 6" from mine, and I realized he probably did not realize how awful he smelled because he had a fucking blond thicket of hair standing out of each nostril as if a small witch rammed her broomsticks up there and left the straw hanging out. I totally shivered and did my best to see if I could sit in the lap of one of the Forestry guys.

Ex-cop and ECL had some small talk regarding their work. I stared at my menu. Luckily Twit was totally in silhouette against the glare from the window. This made it easier for me to rationalize my 100% lack of eye contact with her. There was some discussion on the food--bbq chicken too messy for Ex-cop, but the special of the day (herbed chicken) seemed good to ECL. Twit voice hits at a frequency that I am able to often tune out. Ok, that's just fucking wishful thinking. She announced that she would not be getting the special--good for fucking her. We ordered, and then the real time in purgatory began. The inane chattering was in full force.

Topics covered:
  • Current work duties and how they were going. I did contribute to this discussion by advising that according to the according budget and economy, we probably won't see a raise until 2011. How this came as a shock to them is a bit beyond me. I have no idea what the others are doing, and I did not pay attention because I don't want to start helping them do it.
  • Cooking: We were eating bread, which of course made for a great conversation for Twit so she could tell us all how she bakes bread, and loves cooking. Ex-cop wouldn't really admit if he cooked or not, but ECL likes to cool. All eyes on me, I simply stated I do not cook. Twit asked if we went out to eat a lot, and I admitted that was true, but that most meals could actually be divided in to three portions for me, so I didn't need to eat out every day. This led ECL to say that in my future I would be cooking "after I found the right man and had rugrats hanging off of [my] shoulders." He also mentioned that I'm really young so have plenty of time to find that right man. (I should mention that The Boy and I have been together for enough time that we can apply for common-law marriage if we so desired--but NO marriage for me.) I actually smiled at this appalling commentary on my life. "No. I don't think so. As soon as my doctor allows it, I will be getting STERILIZED." Ah, success, conversation stopper.
  • Family: But no, this led Ex-cop to ask if I had siblings. I confirmed that I do have a sister, and I attempted to say it with some finality to my voice, but they were all interested in if she was younger (yes), by how much (2 years--skipped story about how we have the same birthday, don't want to actually engage with these people), and where does she live. Big sigh. "I would not know. I have not talked to her since 1997." Oh, the joy this brings to Twit! We have something in common; she hasn't spoken to her sister or mother in years, and that she's not very close to her family. She was practically in my lap asking for approval and acceptance, and see, see, see we really are alike! Since our food had arrived, I really paid some good attention to it at this point.
  • Weekend Plans: Since none of us were going to the weekend concert,we had to hash out what we were doing. ECL was the only one to really participate in this. He had to go out to his ranch and do something with cows or horses with his brother. Something like inoculations. I just kept chewing and desperately looking at those Forestry boys.
  • Boston: Ex-cop for the thousandth time, he confirmed that I had lived in Boston (he keeps thinking I grew up there, but only if you consider lots of drinking, Uno playing and sex growing up). So then he told this horrifying tale. You may want to stop reading here if you are sensitive to anything a cop may have to say that he deems a funny story. Seems he was in town for a month for some kind of cop training, and was running on the Esplanade (or as he said, "that place, you know around the water?" and me saying, "you mean the Esplanade, the Charles River?). He was wearing the only college football shirt you see in Texas (it is terra cota baby-poop orange and has a longhorn symbol on it), and some "Orientals" pulled their car up to him and were asking for directions. At this point, Ex-cop was full of giggles and saying, "ME! Those Orientals were asking ME for directions, as if I knew." Right, because those Orientals should really know that anyone wearing a fucking UT t-shirt doesn't actually live or know anything about Boston. That would be a really obvious conclusion for their non-English-speaking asses to come to. And obviously, all Orientals KNOW what that ugly-ass orange shirt means. It means Texas! It means I don't cotton to Orientals asking me questions that involve a state that wasn't under the Confederate flag. Damn Orientals. So fucking stupid, yet so very funny! A great story to tell your coworkers. At this point I went ahead and let my jaw do a few tics. ECL and Twit seemed thoroughly amused.
  • Hydrogen Peroxide & Terrorist: Seems hydrogen peroxide sales are being monitored. Terrorist may be using it! Good to know. I'm sure all those hair salons are going to be really excited to be on the FBI's Most Wanted list. Twist was unsure what terrorist could do with hydrogen peroxide. Ex-cop started explaining but did a really suave, subtle back-pedal and said, "Well, you take hydrogen peroxide and...um, oh, I don't remember, some other thing, to make a homemade bomb." Smooth Ex-cop, really smooth. ECL looked around to make sure no one was listening. The Forestry boys had already left. Left without me.
  • Ex-waiter Cops: Ex-cop asserted that cops who used to be waiters made the best cops. Good to know.
  • Retirement: Both ex-cops are really happy to be retired and pulling in a second paycheck. They are really glad they stuck with their jobs, and find it silly when people aren't happy at jobs and get new ones, because that only screws up their retirements. I resisted punching both of them by sitting on my hands.
It was almost 2pm by this time, and Ex-cop and ECL were 30 minutes late for a meeting. Ex-cop told the waiter he would like to pay for himself and the ladies. Guess ECL was invited but not on the VIP list. Now, I could only see ECL's bill ($12.xx) and he put a $2 tip down. Ex-cop's bill was not visible to me no matter how much I craned my neck pretending to pop it. However, he put down $5 for tip. I think there's some fucked-up math going on around here. Four people and a $7 tip? I tried to slip some more money on the table, but the ex-cops were all about "ladies first" and kept making us walk in front of them.

Back in to the SUV. Ex-cop did mention he thought maybe he should get the front passenger door fixed, but felt that it being in the shop last time a week would mean the same this time around. Ex-cop not putting together the danger of passenger not being able to open door. Genius. No wonder he took us out to lunch to thank us for all our help. Ex-cop reminded Twit and ECL to buckle up in the backseat due to the new legislative rules. Both Ex-cop and Twit were not pleased with this. I'm always amazed at how many people do not like to buckle up in the backseat. How many accidents have we all been forced to hear about where the vehicle rolled, tossing people out like little bloody ragdolls, and then to add some more injury to injury, the vehicle actually not only tossed the bodies out but rolled over them, too! Excellent. By all means, stay unbuckled. Oh, but wait, if you don't get thrown from the vehicle, you may just fly around the inside and break my neck with the impact of your body. Thanks, really appreciate the assistance in granting my wish to not live in to my 80s. Too bad I'm only 34 now.

Most of the conversation back had to do with difference courses the ex-cops had to take to keep up with various licenses. I looked at buildings and trees. It wasn't so bad. I slapped at the AC vents so I could unfreeze the snot in my sinuses. Ex-cop did get the hint and fiddled with the temperature a bit. He asked if he could drop us off out front since him and ECL were going to still make the meeting (please, they were now an hour late). I walk quite slowly, forcing Twit to walk in front of me. She headed for the elevators and I announced I was taking the stairs. Ha ha. Off I went, but unfortunately got upstairs at the same time the elevator delivered her, and she made some comment about beating me. People, please know that at this time, I did NOT beat her with my fist and feet to prove a point. I merely grunted, walked ahead of her and headed to my desk.

The End.

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