So, I decided to stop by the library again, and then I started thinking about my blog and about how I was "overdue" for a rant. Anyway, I decided to sit down and start typing away. There are no smelly people here today, and although there is one typer next to me who is slightly a distinctly loud typer, I can tolerate her because she's not so bad and she smells of peppermint gum and deodorant, PLUS, she hasn't said a word. In FACT, it looks like she's sitting with her boyfriend or brother or someone and typing BACK and FORTH to him this minute. How do I know this? Well...she keeps looking at him after every sentence and he occasionally verbally replies, "No," out of nowhere. So, I'm onto their little scheme. Speaking of which, --WHAT the hell is wrong with people these days? Nobody talks, they just text?! I occassionally do this, so for me to deny it would be calling the kettle black. But seriously,---in a public place where you're sitting no more than a foot away from each other?! Why can't they just whisper? Okay, okay, NOW they are whispering; I've clearly spoken TOO soon.
So, earlier today--I was at the new Leopard Forest Coffee Shop, which is nice, actually. They actually have sofas without sheets over them now, and it looks really nice on the inside. Anywho, there was this guy, about 50-65 years of age who talked for two hours straight, using the same topic for the duration of his consumerism. He kept talking about radio-hosting and church to this random woman who came in with her laptop and sat down. You should have SEEN the look on this woman's face afterward though, because it was very apparent that she was DONE with listening to him. The expression on her face, let alone her body language was very convincing. She stood up and it was clear she was thinking: "I'm going to wrap my laptop cord up now and pretend to continue to listen to you and nod. "Bless his heart. Just nosying in on someone else's conversation, I even thought he was too boring to listen to.
Then, Curtis and I went to S & S Cafeteria to eat with the old people at 5:30pm. The food is fantastic there and I could eat another plate this very moment. The only problem is at the front of the line: their tossed salad isn't very abundant. So, I always request for "the stuff off the top." Linda, the Salad-Woman-In-Charge looked at me like like I had lost my damn mind and subsequently denied me of this privilege that I've had for so long with other Salad-Women-In-Charge. After that I trucked my tray on down the line and made a stop in front of the Roast, (my usual entree' of choice.) Larry, the usual "Roast-Man-In-Charge"who should have been a cast member of Sanford and Son, greeted me with his usual glowing smile, which mostly came from his two gold teeth. I must admit, this guy makes me happy every time I come in there because he's a real character and nothing ever gets him down, including when I asked him to give me some really good slices this time because I had a bad experience the last time I ate the roast beef and there were pieces of fat in my cuts. With a huge smile and his Sanford-esque voice, he replied, "Well Larry servin' ya NOw, and LARRY ain't gon' give yuh no fat... NO SIR. Larry gon slice yuh up some good ones!" Just a sidenote before we proceed with story: Larry is ALWAYS the ROAST-MAN-IN-CHARGE. I just nodded, thanked Larry and moved on to the maccaroni, which of course, I was served the shittiest part of the bake (the part without the crust.) Slightly angered by people's inability to understand what part of the maccaroni is most desired, I politely asked for the server to cap it off with " the stuff on top." Luckily, I was listened to this time and didn't get any lip. As Curtis and I proceeded to make our way into the dining hall where most of the tables were filled with gray hair or bald heads, we found a decent, but not our "usual" place to sit. I sat the tray down and ran over to the sauce station before the server came over. Sidenote: the reason why I run over to the sauce table and pick up the A1 and the Heinz 57 is because I really don't feel like leaving them a damn tip for just handing me those two things, because that's all we ever need. Of COURSE CURTIS has to gulp 5-6 glasses of water down and therefore the "whatever they call those women that keep walking around in the dining room that take up trays and that's about it" comes over there and has to FILL it back up, which therefore, requires a tip. Next time, I'm just going to bring one of those 64 gallon big sipper cups, pre-fill it for him, and have it ready to go when he gets to the table. Anyway, once sit down at the table, he EYES my good-looking maccaroni. As he threatens to send his serving back on account of it "tasting funny," (which it didn't) I made a negotiation with him by offering some of mine.... Thankfully, it worked and all was well. The End.