1. Go to a local fabric store. Buy fabric and focus on making a quilt. I finished my first one a couple weeks ago. I had a one track mind when working on it. Not too much of anything floated in my brain except working on the quilt. Almost theraputic.
2. Find a decent liquor store. Search for something new to drink. Buy a pack of cigarettes to go with it and enjoy the night on my balcony. If you've been reading this blog, you know I'm not a heavy drinker. I'll buy a six pack of Sam Adams and Smirnoff Ice and let it sit in the refrigerator till it goes bad. (Yes, Festi I had to throw 5 bottles of Sam Adams down the drain because they had gone bad.) But, occassionally I like to try something new. Also, if you've been reading this blog, you'll know I've made an attempt to quit smoking. It's been almost a month since I've had a cigarette. August 10th will be a month. I'd really like to have one tonight.
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There were two gentlemen who came to the library that made me want to scream. One yesterday and one today.
First off, would someone please tell me what I do that encourages men who visit the library to make unwanted passes at me? I don't wear revealing clothes. I don't wiggle my hips or ass. I don't flirt. I work at the library. I'm nice and helpful.
Yesterday, a man calls to ask questions about the library. "Do you have internet access, wireless access, fax machines, what are your hours, blah, blah, and blah." I respectfully gave him the answers he needed. He was a jolly fellow on the phone. An out of towner from California. He gave me his name (first and last). I said my first name. (It happens on occassion that people will give their name and they expect your name in return. They get my first name and that's it.) Thirty minutes later, my phone rings at the office. My phone hardly ever rings. So I'm thinking this must be important. "This is ______ _______." On the other line, it's him. He remembered my name and specifically asked for me. He had some more questions. For crying out loud.
One to two hours later, he arrives at the library and I'm able to pass him off to another librarian since I was busy answering another question. Fifteen minutes later he approaches the desk saying our wireless connection isn't working. (Which isn't a surprise to me knowing the head of our Automation Department is an asshole.) So I'm doing what ever trick I know to get the wireless connection fixed. He's using a Macintosh computer, the library uses PC. I only use a PC, and he seems to think it's okay to crack jokes at me that I must be a "computer snob" because I don't like a Mac. First off, Mac's fucking confused me when I first approached them. PC's became my friend when to me they were more user friendly. He has to chat and chat and say how better the Mac is than a PC. Like I fucking care at this point.
We are able to finally get wireless for him. For a short time at least. Now he's wanting to know if there are places around town that have wireless access. This CA man is expecting a lot from a small town. "Well don't you have a Starbucks?" My co-worker and I let out a laugh. "No we don't."
I've made this into a log story (sorry about that), but soon, he was asking me where I lived. He has a family reunion in the near by area. The same area as to where I live. I don't want to send him anywhere I may be in town. Because by now I'm trying to give him directions to some restaurants that have wireless access, and I've become completely confused. I'm wanting him out of the library so fast that I can't concentrate on North, South, East and West. He's got me so damned confused, talking to fast, not letting me think straight. All I want to say is, "See the door, walk out and keep going."
But, before he leaves, he stops to give me his business card (with his cell phone number he tells me) and to give him a call. I'm thinking, "Oh please don't do this. What the fuck did I do?" I tell him to have a good night.
Later that night, I meet up with some friends at a local bar/eatery/pub and tell this story. I tell my friend the event with the Real Estate / Finance broker from California. I tell her about the whole frustrating event of trying to give directions while he was talking and confusing me. She tells me, "It's called flirting." Without skipping a beat I reply, "It's called annoying the shit out of me."
That guy annoyed me. I may have had different feelings had it been a guy I was attracted too.
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That's it for now.
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