I am suddenly at a loss for words. Well, okay, not really. The truth is that I really don�t know what to write about today, because even though a bunch of things went on this weekend, none of it was particularly shoutrageous.
On Friday, May Day and I bought some good, cheap wine, got a pizza drunk, and took advantage of it while watching the asstacular made-for-TV Murder, She Wrote movie. Seriously, people, it was pretty bad. Actually, it was just like watching a two-hour episode of regular, old Murder, She Wrote, which may not sound too surprising to you, but aren�t the TV movies supposed to be bigger and better? The only thing different about this one was the outside chance that it was filmed on location in Ireland. Although I don�t think it was.
I did some shopping this weekend, though. Well, what passes for shopping in my sorry, broke-ass life. I discovered, however, that I�m just way too poor to be trendy. Or, you know, dressed. Like, I went into this one store, and I found a pair of jeans that I thought looked really cool. So I tried them on, and they seriously fit me like I was born into them. I mean, I looked gooooood. I mean, if I saw me walking down the street in those pants, I�d have jumped me in a second.
And then I looked at the price tag. May I ask who in the hell spends $108 on a pair of jeans? I mean, seriously. Seriously. One hundred and eight dollars. For a pair of jeans. Does that seem, I don�t know, a little overpriced to anyone else? They�re just freaking pants! They looked good, but not that good! I tell you what, too: for $108, those pants better cook dinner for you and watch your children while you�re out.
So the pants did not get purchased. You should have seen me trying to get out of them, too. I was so paranoid I was going to rip them, or bruise them, or piss them off or whatever, that I had to do all these weird yoga exercises to wriggle out of them. I moved so slowly and carefully, you�d have thought I was covered in bees. And then I left them in the fitting room, because there was no way I was going to risk having them in my hands for one more second. All I need right now is to snag a pair of $108 jeans on a wayward hinge to really make my life pop, you know?
And then, as I was leaving, I had to run the Donation Gauntlet. And it�s not that I�m insensitive to the plight of the needy, or whatever, but I quite literally had absolutely no cash on me whatsoever. Have you ever noticed the way that they get all up in your face and ask you for money, and when you don�t give for whatever reason, they look at you like you just reserved your spot in Hell? Yeah, I got that look six times in a row. In one block!
First, I passed by Styrofoam Cup Guy, who was asking for spare change. Then I saw some guy waving something around, and I knew he was going to offer me a booklet or a bible or whatever, so I started crossing the street�and ran head-on into Holy Flashcard Guy. You know the one -- he�s got that card and he�s all, �Here are some questions about God that I�m going to answer for you!� So I brushed him off, and fast. It�s not that I don�t appreciate the sentiment, or even that I have a problem with evangelism, but it�s just rude to literally step in front of someone and impede them so you can get all passive-aggressive about their religious beliefs.
I sidestepped Flashcard Guy and ran right into Take This Pamphlet For Your Own Good Lady. After her, it was a woman with a Please Help sign that broke my heart, but as I said, I was without a dime. And then it was the really aggressive Save the Children guy. He�s another one that steps out in front of you and acts all loud and familiar until you�re like, �Um, I don�t have any money right now,� and he gives you that disgusted look and glares at you like he�s trying to use The Force to make your head explode or something.
And, dude! It�s not like I have a problem with the children! I want to save the children as much as the next guy, but I honestly don�t have any money on me! I mean, they look at you like you just said, �Actually, I�d kind of like the children to suffer. Builds character.�
I wonder what karma makes of situations like that?
