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~Wednesday~  I woke up not feeling at all well this morning. I had sniffles (perhaps a "summer cold" coming on, as they like to say "down here"), and I had an upset stomach.

I arrived at the bus stop at 7:19, which was starting to push it for the 7:15 bus, but it didn't arrive until 7:25. The driver must have been trying to make up for lost time, because he couldn't be bothered to wait until I had sat down, or was at least close to sitting down, before moving on.

At the next stop, he started going while the guy was still trying to get the fare machine to take his dollar. Uhm. That sign? Right above your head? About it being illegal to drive while a passenger is in front of the yellow line?" Not to mention that it doesn't make it any easier for the guy to "work" his dollar bill into the machine while he's being tossed to and fro.

At the Gorman/Conifer stop, about ten people boarded, and I half expected him to start rolling on forward dragging the eighth person's one foot along the road, while the remaining two chased the bus.

It's days like today that I so appreciate Google for the essential tool that it is in my yenta toolbox. A lady across from me was reading a book, and she handed it across the aisle to the lady right in front of me to read a passage.

Of course, I stopped just short of spraining my neck to see the title of the book. I was able to note the author, Joyce Meyer, and I could see this part of the title without getting any more up into the lady's grill or falling out of my seat from leaning over to look: "Conf... W...," which I promptly noted in my phone along with the chapter title that I could fully see: "Use Your Sword."

My critical Google tool easily fleshed out the remaining information for me: Joyce Meyer Ministries, The Confident Woman: Start Today Living Boldly and Without Fear.

Exiting the bus, which I did at the same time as a young lady sitting across from me, I said, "Go ahead," to which she replied, "No, you go ahead," and we both sort of hesitated for a second, so I went ahead. It made me wonder if age trumps gender in the etiquette quest. If nothing else, the "age before beauty" adage applied in this case.



I had a meeting from 9:30 - 11:00, one from 11:00 - 12:00, and another from 12:00 - 1:00. The 9:30 one was in another building, and I took a bus over to it at 8:30, allowing myself an hour of set-up time, and it's a good thing. I finally got everything just so at about 9:15, just before the first meeting attendee arrived.

After the noontime lunch and learn from 12:00 - 1:00, at about 1:30, I walked in the sweltering heat up Hillsborough Street, stopping in the credit union to withdraw three $100 bills, two 20s, and a 10. The three hundred dollar bills are to pay Kevin my half of the room while we're in Chicago.

Going in I thought, "If this place gets robbed while I'm in there, I'm going to throw myself at the assailant screaming, "Don't shoot! Is it really worth a murder wrap just for robbing a bank?"
 
In and out, without incident, I carried my newly, but lightly-stuffed wallet a little ways down the street to the Subway, where I experienced a "Who's on first?" type of exchange.

The customer behind me said to the "sandwich artists," of which there were four behind the counter, "Does anyone speak Spanish?" She said it kind of softly, so I'm not blaming the people behind the counter for not catching what she said, but one of them thought she did and said to one of the others, "She wants to speak to a manager."

And that sandwich artist repeated that to the one next to her, who was closer to the door to the back where said manager that no one really wanted to speak to presumably was. And like the game of telephone the message made its way to the back, although it didn't change to something wrong, which didn't affect the game, because it was already wrong to begin with. Bonus.

Not wanting to interject if I had misunderstood, I just thought instead of saying, "Didn't she ask if anyone speaks Spanish?" I looked to the guy ahead of me in line and he was shaking his head, presumably thinking what I was thinking.

While waiting for the manager, I guess one of the artists didn't think the customer's order was dependent on the conversation with the manager, so she asked, "May I take your order?" to which all the other artists said, "No. She wants to speak to a manager."

At this point, I guess that customer in front of me had had enough of this Monty Pythonesque inanity, and he said, "She wants to know if someone speaks Spanish."

To which the only guy artist—and gorgeous I might add, and who incidentally looked Hispanic—said, "Oh no, no one here speaks Spanish."

And right after that the manager came out from the back and she said to the customer, "You wanted to speak to a manager?" to which everyone replied, "No, she wants to know if anyone speaks Spanish."

To which the manager said, "Oh! Where's Jasmine when you need her!?!"

Whew. Glad that's settled.



On the bus ride home, I found a container of Advil Liqui-Gels on the seat in front of me, and I nabbed them. There are five pills left in it, which all look legit with the "M122" stamped on them, and no obvious tamper trail to them. Their expiration date is 10/11.

I will probably use them when I finish my current container of Aleve, so I'm just noting it here in case something happens to me when I take them. You can be Inspector Clouseau and say, "It must have been those pills he mentioned in his blog!"



I mentioned on Sunday that one of our book club member's mother's death was imminent. Today I received an email from my friend Suzanne that said, "I'm still processing this..." with a link to her mother's obituary. I'm sorry for your loss, Suzanne.



I took about a 1.5-hour nap before heading out to dancing tonight.

We had a good number of dancers, and it turned out to be quite a fun night. I didn't leave until about 11:30, instead of between 10:30 and 11:00 as I have been lately.

At around 10:00, I guess, Bob, who emcees karaoke, walked through the bar holding up a newspaper with a huge headline that read, "Scotty Wins!" Yay for the hometown country boy.

At home, I read some more of Bossypants before falling asleep, and now I think I'm going to finish it before I leave on Friday, but not before I have to turn in the Kindle, so I'll still use the book that Desiree was a doll to loan me!

Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
NCSUvanessajade
May. 26th, 2011 06:27 pm (UTC)
One of my favorite parts: "-- although it didn't change to something wrong, which didn't affect the game, because it was already wrong to begin with." Haha!

I think I may know which Subway sandwich artist you are talking about! Does he have light eyes? I think they may have been green, but maybe they were blue..

Ah! You're reading Bossypants?! How do you like it so far?
dailyafirmation
May. 27th, 2011 02:40 am (UTC)
I just love hearing what made you laugh. Thanks for that.

As we discussed in the office, you are absolutely right about the "artist": it's the guy with the eyes! And now that you mention it, I do think Greek is a better guess than Hispanic or Latino.

I love, love, love Bossypants!

Thanks for reading and commenting, my friend!
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

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