Stagnant. There was absolutely no air circulating on the bus when I boarded. It wasn't hot, per se, but it wasn't comfortable either.
You have to tell the bus driver if you want anything other than the standard fare ticket before you put your money in the fare machine, and I frequently hear, "Transfer" and "Day pass," as those are by far the two most popular non-standard fare options. Today, a man boarding at the stop near Gorman and Marcom said, "Regional, please." I'd never heard that before and had to look it up.
At the McKimmon Center stop, a man got on and took the seat in front of me. His clothes smelled overpoweringly like an ashtray. I've probably smoked a total of five cigarettes in my life, and from what I could remember, the smell was just like your fingers smell after the cigarette burns down close to them at the very end. Nasty.
Mercifully, when we approached the Gorman and Western Blvd. intersection the A/C came on.
I accompanied my colleague and friend, Jen, while she presented Information Technology information during our organization's 15-minute time slot during New Student Orientation. Today's presentation was to the parents, and it was quite the small crowd. It was hot as Hades walking back, as today's record temperature hit three digits.
After that presentation and before my 1:00 meeting, I called in a takeout order to Gumby's, which is pretty much right next door to my work building, and when I arrived the (cute) guy working the register couldn't get it to ring up my order. He called the guy over who was making the food, and arriving with his plastic food prep gloves on and keeping them on, he pressed virtual buttons on the computer screen.
Fortunately for him, two things: 1) I couldn't see when he went back to the food prep area if he changed his gloves or not, and 2) my food was already cooked.
The kid finally got my order rung up, but then the drawer wouldn't open. He called the guy over again, and it looked like it was going to work, but as soon as the guy walked away it didn't. The kid tried a couple more sequence of keying on the screen, but eventually had to reach up under the register drawer to press something that allowed it to manually open, and he finally completed the transaction.
I could see my two pepperoni rolls at the end of the grill chain that takes the food through the oven to cook. I'd called 15 minutes before coming over, because they take 8-10 minutes to cook, so I knew those were mine, and besides there was no one else in the place. He got the tongs and then I heard, "Oops!" as one of them disappeared. He put the remaining one in the Styrofoam container lined with foil, and then said to that other guy, "One of them rolled off the end," as I watched him pick it up off the floor and put in the trash.
He started to put another one on the chain leading into the oven, and I said, "I'll just take the one with me, as I have a 1:00 meeting"—it was 12:45 now and I wanted to eat my lunch before that meeting—"and I'll come back and get the other one after my meeting."
The food prep guy, whom I think might also have been the manager, said, "We'll have two of them for you, for your trouble, when you come back."
That trip to North Raleigh yesterday evening was to use a Groupon I'd bought for three bottles of wine at a place where they not only sell wine, but also customize a label to put on your purchases. I went there knowing nothing about wine, as I don't care for it and only drink it when it's either free or the only choice, or free and the only choice.
I think the guy selling the wine got a little annoyed with me as the conversation—after we clarified what I wanted on the labels—went something like this:
Him: What kind of wine do they drink?
Me: Uh, I don't know.
Him: Well, do they drink sweet wine or dry wine, 'cause there's a big difference in those.
Me: Uh, I really don't know. I mean I know these guys from the bar, and they don't serve wine at the bar we go to, so I really have never seen them actually drink any wine.
Him: How about in terms of white wine or red wine?
Me: Uh, I really don't know. Is one more popular than another? I'm such a bad wine customer.
He seemed to be getting a little frustrated with me. I should note that it was about 5:45 and their closing time was 7:30. Also, he asked me when I wanted this and I explained that I'd come all the way out there from downtown Raleigh, and that, well, I only see these guys on Wednesday nights, which is tomorrow night, and it sure would be nice if I didn't have to come all the way back out here tomorrow to get it, if it could even be ready by tomorrow. (I had no idea how long it took them to do the customized labels.)
Him: Well some people like a nice sweet wine to serve in the summer, something they can have with some fruit.
Me: This is really not a foo-foo situation. I mean, my sense is that they're just in it for the alcohol.
He got a little defensive about the foo-foo remark, but I forged on.
Me: I know they entertain a lot. Why don't you just suggest three different bottles? Go ahead and give me something for the fruit (thinking, actually, Michael and Terry are both fruits, so it'll be perfect), and maybe something they can have if they grill out some steaks or something like that.
Him: Okay, I'll give you a nice strawberry Riesling and a Merlot, and then I'll just pick out something else nice for them.
He was kind enough to go ahead and take care of everything right then, and asked me to give him until 6:30 to have it ready. I browsed around in an Independent bookstore in the shopping center there, and had just entered into the Dollar General when my phone vibrated. "You're wine is ready, Mr. Martin," he said at 6:15.
I was pretty pleased with the results:
Dancing was a bit of a letdown tonight, in terms of the crowd, particularly since the last two Wednesday were really festive. Oh well.
I think Michael was very moved by his gift, so yay for that!
Not only was it ridiculously hot today, it was still so driving home at 11:15. My car indicated that it was still 91° out. Crazy!