You don't even want to know..

Or maybe you do, because that's why you read my blog, right? So sorry for the lack of postage this week, I was on a roll last week and then it kind of stopped. I wanted to write about the election, because um.. how amazing was that!? Then I really didn't have much to talk about until yesterday and today. Stay tuned for a rant about my father and yet another dude who talked shit to me at work tonight.

Like fucking rocks. Let. Me. Tell. You. Woo.

16 days. That's all I have to say. 16 days.

Patron on ice...

I found out later than not only did "T.I." harass me and numerous other girls that night, but he also pulled his man-part out on the table in front of 6 women not six feet from where I was standing.

On top of this, Mr. $30,000 didn't pay for a single drink that night. He had a friend who was buying them for him.

Classy.

Baby, You can have whatever you like...

Before launching into this story, you'll probably want to watch this video for the whole thing to make sense.

I'm not a huge fan of this song, and in fact, I'm going to use this song for a WMST paper, but it is relevant to the story.

Tonight I worked. Yes, on Halloween, I worked. It wasn't bad, though, because I never really get excited about Halloween. Some people spend a lot of money on costumes, but not me. However, in order to not wear my work uniform, I dressed up as a lady bug. Black pants, cute red, short sleeved turtleneck, homemade antenna, wings, and a friend of mine did my eye make up (which was totally awesome). The rules for dressing up were that you had to wear your treadsafe shoes, hair had to be pulled back, and it had to be G Rated. We couldn't go dressed as bitches and hos apparently. Damn--There goes my idea.. :)

So tonight, I was standing at the host stand, and a guy walks up to me very much so in my personal space and begins to look me up and down.

Dude: You got a boyfriend?

Slightly annoyed me: Mm yeah.

Dude: I bet he's white.

Me: Pretty much.

Dude: You ever been wit a black guy?

Me: Not so much.

Dude: Mmm. You don't know what you're missin out on then.

Me: Oh really. I guess not.

Dude: I mean not in a sexual way or anything, you just don't know what you're missin out on.

Me: Ahh. That clears things up. Now I understand.

Dude: Does he got money?

Me: Hmm. He's a server at a restaurant.

Dude: So, he makes $2.13 an hour? That ain't money. I got money. You need to be someone like me. I got 30,000 in the bank.

Me: Hmm..tempting.

Dude: Why you settlin for a guy like that when you can have someone like me?

Me: Uh. Because I'm in college and that stuff doesn't matter.

Dude: Oh C'mon. I'm like T.I., Baby, you can have whatever you like.

Me: Ohhhhhhhh. Now that changes things, lemme call my boyfriend right now and just call things off. You are everything I've ever looked for in a guy. Thanks so much for being that voice of reason. You're amazing.

(K. Not so much what I said, but would have been funny)

I told this story to one of the guys and he was like I should walk up to this guy and be like "Have you ever been with a man? How bout a white man? Ohh you don't know what you're missing out on!" Would have been entertaining to say the least.

Hope your Halloween was eventful!!!

Forizzle?

Is it already the 7th? What the heck happened to August and the other part of my summer. I'm two weeks into school and already I have an entire list of homework crap that I've had to prioritize. I'm supposed to be writing a Sociology paper about Modernity and Tradition--can they survive without each other. I know. You're thinking, "Woo!" So yeah, supposed to be 3-5 pages, will probably be 3. I kind of have to finish it before I go to work tonight, so I'm procrastinating.... that always gets the job done! :)

Thanks for the responses on the gender perception! I totally agree with all 3 of you!! I'm interested in what the rest of my classmates talk about next week when we discuss this topic. If it's anything like the online discussion forum that we've had, the discussion in class will be LAME. Teachers who really know how to direct discussion are few and far between.

Last weekend was the biggest Labor Day fireworks show in the South! Classy, Diva, and I went to stand amongst the crowds for an hour and a half until the big show started! Afterward, we went to the bar that we love and spent too much money. Nothing but pure relaxation.... and some karaoke watching. A few more beverages and I would have been up there singing "No Scrubs" or some other ridiculous song. We had a blast even though I didn't get to participate in the karaoke festivities!

Has anyone heard of someone asking for their chicken mid-rare before????? Well, last night was a first for me. While working, a particular server came up to me to explain how her table, who had an IQ of ZERO combined, asked for their chicken mid-rare. Besides being illegal, she explained how they can't do that because of salmonella. "You mean you can't cook that any other way?" the lady with the southern drawl asked. Um, no. For real??? A. the server told me that she seriously thought she was being Punk'd. People never cease to amaze, ya know?

Off to finish this paper, I suppose I have procrastinated enough and I'm out of stupid stories to tell! Except for this.....

There's this guy at work, not Sir Jerkoffalot, but another guy who used to live with Sir Jerkoffalot. He recently got kicked out of his house and had to move somewhere else, but that's besides the point. He's a complete loser, sells coke, I'm sure of it, and is a whore. For some reason he thinks he can touch any female in the place, which is kind of surprising because everyone thinks that he's quite homosexual (which isn't a bad thing, but this guy can get laid at a snap of a finger and isn't attractive one bit---I don't understand guys like that.) This is the same guy I punched in the throat a few months ago. He told one of my friends that she looked pregnant. Um.. walking up to a girl and rubbing your hand on her belly asking when she's due is sure to get you punched. Okay, I was drunk, so the punch wasn't in the arm like it probably should have been. My inebriated self punched him in the THROAT. Oh he was pissed. At a later drunken date I apologized. Last week I successfully punched him again. This time in the arm. This time no alcohol. Dude grabbed my boob. Yeah. My boob. As quick as he grabbed I punched. He was all, "Roxie, that hurt.. wahhhh", I'm all like, Don't fucking touch me again, Douchebag. Next time it'll be the face. Hopefully, he's learned his lesson. Hopefully.

As I leave you with that story, I hope you all have a fabulous Sunday afternoon. Enjoy the football and think of me while I'm at working bussing tables and attempting to be nice to the people who walk in the front door! :)