Inside the mind of a gov'ment bueaurcrat.

So I was almost in a fight this weekend. Very exciting! So my two friends were sitting outside smoking their cigarillo while I was inside being molested by a 40 year old. The dude was very forceful and had biceps the size of my head. He was biting at my neck like he was R. Pat and I was NOT having that. So we messed around for ten minutes then I had to run.

So I get outside and see my friends sitting down smoking. After I sit down, I see that there is some rando dude sitting between my friends (yeah I was getting that drunk). My friends for that evening had been two gals I went to HS with. Initially I thought they knew him or had invited him to their table. Then one of my friends tells the dude to shut up and leave. I asked if they knew him and they said no, so I told the creeper to leave. Once politely, twice a little ruder. I don’t know if he didn’t understand English or if he just wanted to be an ass so he could get at my girls. He was clearly a FOB from Ghana (yes he was wearing the flag as an under shirt…I would have complemented had he not been a douche). Either way, he jumped up and started yelling at me like I had done something.

I jumped up too cuz he was knuckin’ and buckin’ and I was ready to fight. BUT, I had to be classy; I was wearing my Ellen outfit and I didn’t have the nerve to get into a fight with an immigrant because it might have just been a situation of miscommunication. Well, he keeps following me and yelling, “you want ME to leave dis floor-ah? You want ME to leave DIS FLOOR-AH!?” I was like “I don’t give a fuck where you go ya weak ass heffa just get the fuck up outta my face.”

Thankfully the girls pulled me inside cuz I was about to take the bottle in my hand and buss it across his face. At some point in the shuffle, someone bumped into the dude and shit fell out of his pocket. After security came and took him away, the girls went back and picked up the various items. They start examining it and we realize that they’re credit cards, all of which have different names on em. Then one of my friends finds her drivers license in the stack. All I could do was shake my damn head. Pitiful.

If there’s one thing you learn from this post, it’s never a good idea to fight at a club. Just make sure you pick their pockets before they get kicked out. Guess I’m not a rude boy…

So I am beginning to think that it was a VERY bad idea to give Tom my email address. I have received a total of eight emails in the past three days; all of them dealing with space, or air travel, or some other thing that I’m not really interested in. On Monday, the theme was space; some planet called X (not named after Malcolm) that’s suppose to come within the earth’s orbit around 2012. I don’t know why I know that much about that shit but I could care less. I have Jesus so I don’t need to know all the inner workings of how he’s gonna take us all out. I just need to know if all of my actions here on earth got me on Jesus’ VIP list. Can I get an Amen?!

So I learned way too much about this man over the week. I’ve learned about too many of his issues, and I won’t mention them here because I think that would be very tasteless but let me tell you….I did NOT care to know ‘em. I understand that the age difference between me and my co-workers often induces long pauses whenever we are having a conversation but that time should not be filled in with you telling me all of Tom’s biznazz. Now I scared to know what they say about me. The only things that pop into my mind are the things my parents say about me that really catch me off guard, like the first time they took notice of how tight I liked my clothes to fit, or how soft my hands are because I made excuses for getting out of doing manual labor, or how they LET me get away with watching all of that porn over the years (yeah they knew!). These are things I never thought they picked up on. Oh well.

So back to Tom. So that day I tweeted about boss lady….I’m sorry, Boss-Lady walking in on a recent fart in my office and totally backing out of the room letting me know she had caught a whiff (I’m so sorry ‘bout that), she was coming in to tell me that my new office space (our offices are moving a floor up so that everyone will be in cubicles) had been changed. Let me tell you. On Monday, I had made a stop on the new floor to “grab a document that I had printed out of a new printer” (a.k.a. look at my new space. They had just added name tags.) So I turn the corner and see my cube with my name on the outside. I smiled cuz that was a sign that I was no longer a “temp”. They had actually invested in at least a name plate for me (well the name was printed on paper but that took capital to make.) Then I did a 360. Or a 180. Idk

There was Tom’s name right across the hall. I gasped for air and nearly fainted. Images of Tom’s loud ass talk of aliens and hooter girls and star trek…..AHHHHHHHH! I had a mini nervous break down. Well I calmed down and accepted defeat. At least I still had a job right. Well that night I prayed about it. Tuesday was the office fart incident. When my boss told me that I was being moved to a location a couple spaces away from Tom, I didn’t care how much of my insides she was inhaling, I grew a kool-aid smile so big she probably thought I was high on drugs. I smiled so big she would have thought I was a starving third world child that just received a bag of rice. She probably had a very vivid image with all that odor hitting her face.

All in all, I was very happy to be moving away from Tom. He’s a really thoughtful person, but he is at Grandpa status. You really wanna be polite and listen to everything they have to say, but you know their brains have been working hard for quite a few decades and you wouldn’t trust driving a car that old, would you? Is that mean…

[P.S. Just so you get more a sense of what I’m talking about, watch what he sent me today.]

So as I type this, I am actively perusing the wildly entertaining site known as Chat Roulette. I advise any and every person with or without a web cam to try out the site. It is LOADS of fun. I’ve had many emotions while using it. I started out just playing the game “Will I see Weiner”. The premise of the game is to guess how many times you will click the next button until you see weiner pop up in the stranger box. Creeps, I know. I have a web cam but for the first few thousand tries I left a towel over it so that I could play my game unobstructed (I didn’t want anyone to click next before I had got a good look……okay that sounds really creepy I admit. But the game will do that to ya.)

So after a while, I grew some balls and decided to see if I could actually hold a convo with someone. It didn’t work. I found myself being “nexted” ny every stranger that was popping up, most of them were guys. That got me thinking about people using this as a measure of their beauty in the world. If people were so quick to instant next you, you must be a really busted looking SOB. I thought that was crazy though considering I look and feel like a million bucks cuz I’m fresh dressed LIKE a million bucks.

I realized that most of the pervs that come on here are in it for the game, not to actually talk. Especially after the media has made the site out to be all about the flasher element. However, how does that explain the enormous number of straight looking dudes on the site?

A few of the strangers were very hilarious. The British folks are always a laugh but the most hilarious had to be the stream I got straight from the Philippines. Yes, I encountered Francis himself in bed with a lady that appeared to resemble my grandmother (same age and everything). I was so grossed/dying of laughter, I clicked the next button as quickly as possible so they wouldn’t see me dying. I guess they had the same reaction seeing me because they clicked the next button at that same moment. Midway through my laugh, I look up to see the blank screen return back to them just finishing a hysterical laugh. We had another good ten seconds of very awkward staring before I hit the next button.

I hope I have more chats like that…

[BTdubs, the video is a sample of the many fun things you’ll encounter on chat roulette. I hope I come across Fat & Stink. This would be a great media for him.]

So it’s been five days since “The Breakup”. We broke up because of religious differences. Isn’t that ironic…not really. Any way, he would always make comments wishing someone would get into a car accident with him so he could collect the insurance and get a new car. Yeah, he was one of those recessionista bastards. Well, on Friday I told him that he should really stop making comments like that because every time he does, I have to pray that much more just to keep him safe. He told me to not waste my prayers on him. He wasn’t religious and the only thing keeping him safe was himself and his own actions. I was so disgusted by that remark, I could feel it beaming from my face. He followed his reply with “do you think I need to be saved?” Of course I replied yes. He then went on talking about how if he felt I was always going to be intolerant of his agnosticist -ish (whateva) self that we would never work out and we should quit wasting each others’ time because he wasn’t going to change. I didn’t respond and chose to change the subject because I at least wanted to finish eating my dinner (I was real hungary, yes Hungary, and I did not want him ruining my appetite). He stopped eating; I asked if that was all; he said yeah then ran off to do some grocery shopping (code for crying).

Oh well, I feel great! It only took me three days to get over him. So if I do the calculations, three months were practically forgotten in three days. That’s bad news bears for me cuz if the formula really is a month a day… I better limit myself to six month relay-lays. I can’t be going a whole week moping around, yelling at folks, and making snide comments about a person. What they gone say at my jawb?!

Speaking of the job, the break up has given me a renewed interest in the cute guy at work. He has the same last name as some other guy here in Austin I used to hook up with… so I hope he doesn’t come attached with the same ass drama. Ante-way, we’ve been running into each other a lot lately in the hallways. The first time was on Friday. I was moving away from the water fountain as he was turning a corner. It was almost like in the movies, you know when two people bump into each other, their papers fly all around them but all they can do is stare into each others’ eyes and wonder where the other person has been all of their life. I guess it’s a good thing it wasn’t like the movies because we were both carrying half full bottles of water. Once I got back to my desk, I started listening to that Alicia Keys song, ‘You Don’t Know my Name” and thinking about him. So cheesy, I know. Oh well…

The second time we almost bumped into each other was on Monday. Same hallway, different door; this time I was turning the corner and he was walking by. Right before we collided (shit now I’m thinking about that Howie Day song, FML) he yelps, “woops, sorry Marvin.” I reply, “sorry” just like my friend Jess (sans the raised hand) and hurrilly scoot past him and around the corner. I take two steps and the first thing I mouth (and probably stated out loud without really thinking) was “he knows my name”. Yeah, I totes had a Helga Pataki moment. If only that engineer hadn’t been standing somewhere nearby breathing heavily….oh wait, Tom’s big ass was breathing hard when I walked back into my office still mouthing “he knows my name”. Ugh……..that man……….!

Now I’m starting to think that maybe my office crush is actually straight. I mean, we are in Texas. And despite the saying, the only things that come from Texas are NOT steers and queers (Although I wish that were true…….naa, jk). I thought he might of been because all of the guys I know with his last name (I mean literally every one of them) is into mussy (doesn’t that word just make you cringe) and if the golf attire didn’t register his straightness, maybe the 1950s pancake booty pants he wore today will. Idk……

From March 10th, 2009

I didn’t get into Cornell Grad school. That sucks! I kind of had a feeling I wouldn’t get in, especially after my abysmal performance on the GRE. I thought I could handle not getting in; I was gonna take it as a blessing from God allowing me to focus on some other aspect of my professional career. However I couldn’t help but feel like a child: sad, angry, disappointed, defeated; I felt so much animosity towards those that may or may not have had a say in whether or not I was “accepted”. Like Miley says, “everyday is an uphill battle. Some days you;re gonna have to loose… It’s not what’s on the other side, it’s the climb.”

[Quick, someone call the Wambulance…]

From January 20th, 2009

I just finished reading my mother’s anti-homo “propaganda”. To be honest, I’m a little beat thinking about a personal battle with sin and earthly happiness. Life gets very stressful when you have to over-analyze your every action for fear you may hurt your image, someone else’s reputation, or your conditioned beliefs about God’s teachings. I’ve grown to accept the notion that religion (the rules taught and held by man) are subject to change and alteration. I’ve accepted that secular progress conflicts and drives this change. I find it very hard to break away from these distinctions and fin God’s TRUE teachings when religion’s progression is a more visible reflection of love and understanding. My ultimate question is whether what my conscience says is what God wants me to hear, whether I’m accuratly listening, and whether my faith is strong enough to follow His orders. I sure hope so.

[Thank God this is becoming easier…]

From November 1st, 2008

I hate to admit it, but I think that I’m living up to the expectations of the SATs and generalizations of black students in prestigious universities. A laizze-fare attitude and a contempt for conformity, concepts that I try to live my life by, have put me in a situation of mediocrity when it comes to my professional life. How can I obtain accolades and positions of power when I can barely live up to average standards? Will my personality carry me through life: will my charisma be transparent or valuable enough; are those qualities beneficial or a hindrance to my goals?

[Whew. It’s been a while…]