Shrimp
One of the things I like (and also dislike) about myself is the fact that as
I get ever more aggravated with any one person, assignment, situation, I tend to
become ever so unconcerned with how I phrase my sentences, direct my ire, etc.
For Example:
After 2 Hours of an Excel Spreadsheet:
Random Person: “How’s it coming?”
Me: “Oh, you know, like the Third Reich and the Jews. No matter how much I
get done, more just keeps popping up.”
Explanation: In my head, the metaphor seems somewhat applicable.
Interpretation: I am a raving neo-nazi psycho.
……………….
I had fun with this little quirk today:
After 3 days of sheer bliss, The Puerto Rican has returned. Set Loose from
whatever temporary prison had held her, she has returned to delight me with her
tales of “Things I can’t shut up about” and “Why men should be the slaves of all
women,” with short interludes containing phrases like “Diva power” and “Can I
‘borrow’ another carton of newports?”
Truly, the tear that fell from my eye as she walked through the door was one
of pure bliss.
Regardless, the initial conversation follows…
PR = Puerto Rican
(Door Opens, she walks in and directs her verbiage towards me)
PR: “I made so much progress this weekend.”
Me: (Silence)
PR: (As she walks directly towards where I’m sitting) “I made SO much progress
this weekend.”
(I should mention, I am completely free to talk and am, In fact, doing
absolutely nothing beyond breathing and regulating my heartbeat)
Me: (Silence)
PR: (She emerges from her room and confronts me directly) “Don’t you want to
know what I did?”
Me: “I honestly have no inclination whatsoever to care about what you did, or
did not do.”
PR: (Makes a grumpy face, much like an angry Irish farmer)
Me: “But, In a good way.”
…
Then she made herself a mess of fried shrimp and passed out in her bed,
covered with the grease from a thousand tiny prawn.
————————————-
Please insert a stray cat.