March madness

How many losers does it take to screw up one month?

Two. The correct answer is two.

I know an old guy, Warren. He restores cars. I like old cars. We talk about cars. So he asked me to lunch at this run down burger joint, I met him after work. He insulted me towards the end of the meal. He asked me if I was for sale because an old friend helped me financially to repair my car Betty. Uh, having been friends ten years and because I am so likable, he wanted to help, no strings attached on account of I don't see him anymore, which Cranky Old Guy must have forgotten.

At lunch he ate breakfast, I had a chef salad. After tossing my silverware and dirty napkin on the plate, he proceeded to pick around the plate and ate ever last sliver of lettuce, carrot and hard boiled egg remnant off the plate. For God's sake, I think he would have licked the plate if I wasn't there.

Anyway, when we were talking about the price of repairs, he wanted to know if I gave backrubs or specials favors for the money. WHAT?! What are you asking me? He could tell he crossed a line. He stood up, dropped two bucks onto the table and walked out. I won't ever speak to him again, I've no reason to. I've blocked him from calling me and his new name is Cranky Old Guy. I feel sorry for him. No wonder he has very few friends, manners and value having no meaning to him.


The next day I see a guy who I call the inventor. He said let's get coffee sometime. That was Ten months ago. Him and I never went out because it turns out he is the private driver to his teenage daughter. He takes her to school, shopping, to her friend's houses, to the stable where she boards her horse, soccer practice, etc. Anyway, a month ago he tells me she has a new boyfriend. I asked, "Does this mean you'll have time for your own social life now?"

Yesterday I saw him at work and said meet me at the doughnut shop for a coffee. Okay. He comes ten minutes later. In front of me I have a coffee and a plain doughnut, which is my lunch. I ask if he wants a coffee, he declines. How about a doughnut. He reached out, took mine and ate the whole thing. Well. I guess that's what I get for offering, even if he did misunderstand. He'll never ask me out on a real date because being an inventor or a single dad doesn't pay well. Seems he cannot afford a .65 cent doughnut.

Loser two. He is the King of Losers. I met him through work, he does construction. I am repairing a quilt for him. He calls me up, on my birthday, altho he doesn't know it's my birthday, says he's in the neighborhood. I tell him where I am. He arrives. The first thing I tell him is to leave my cat alone. She bites. She is old, don't touch her. What does he do? He walks over to her, reaches out, grabs her face and says, "I know my way around pussy."

WTF? Is that supposed to be sexy? Turn me on?

Leave her alone. Stop it. Don't touch her. Quit it. Please leave her alone. She is old. She will bite you. Don't do that. She hates that. You're hurting her. She's going to bite!!

He ended up rubbing her fur backwards and shaking her by her face until she grabbed on, full claws and bit him. What a fucking asshole.

This got worse. Needless to say, he is persona non grata at my house anymore. I have worked non-stop on the quilt. It is done. I will give it back to him today and that'll be the end of that association. About Guy Who Refuses to Listen, I offered him a drink when he arrived, before he tortured the cat. I asked Coke, beer, water? He said Coke. I had a beer and after he freaked the cat out, he grabbed my beer to drink it. I could hardly wait for him to leave. Sweet Jesus, I don't need freaks like this knowing where I live.

What is it about people that makes them want to eat and drink other people's food and drinks? I never had a problem with this until this last week. From now on, I will start a crusade to teach better manners when it comes to poaching tastes.



This is the earliest Easter I can remember in a long time. I went to T's house an hour and a half late. She called around 1:30pm asking, "where are you?" Just leaving, you said 1:30. "No I didn't, you were supposed to be here at noon." Duh! That's NOT what you told me.

Here is the deal, I am seldom late and never, ever if I can help it. If something comes up and think I will end up being late, I always call to say so. You can be pretty certain and bet your bottom dollar that if I am late by more than 30 minutes and have not called, chances are I don't know when I am supposed to be somewhere.

Which makes me ask, why did she wait an hour and a half before calling me? Did they finally get hungry and not want to wait any longer.


Last Friday was my birthday. T took me to lunch. This was after Guy Who Refuses to Listen departed. We had mexican at El Torito. She bought me a lovely potted ficus and a DVD of Premonition, which I've seen.

I took it back to Target and got Cars instead. I love Cars. I've played it non-stop. One of my favorite lines in it is when Lightning McQueen and Sally Carerra are at Wheel Well and she says the reason she didn't go back to her life in the fast lane was she fell in love. He says, "Oh. Corvette?"

I wish I could meet a Vette.