The Liquid Kosmos

Ok, I was a little bitter

I made a sarcastic post about not getting any comments on my writing and the next day I had a huge spike in readership. What are you telling me? That you are intrigued by my pain and emptiness? Can't turn away from the blood and guts? Or, do you simply feel for the struggle and support of my artistic integrity? Those are the questions I hope to answer over the next 6 months. Months that I will viligantly analyze and record thoughts and theory for my new book - "The Truth and Nothing But The Truth: Bloggers." (This is, of course, a follow up to my first book - "Blogger's Greatest Hits").

So, the other day I am in line at the convenience store (yes, I have a minor fetish) and this woman in front of me is an absolute bombshell. I am in "discrete check out mode" (no pun intended) and looking for an opportunity to break the ice with this goddess. That's when I hear her speak, "You know, you look like..." Just then my chin flys up from the hi heeled boot angle anticipating a melting gaze to hit my eyes. But she is talking directly to the clerk behind the counter and finishes her sentence with, "Jack Nicholson."

I quickly gather my composure and glance in his direction. This is when I realize the grumpy, sarcastic, yet in his own way kinda friendly guy I see every day DOES kind of look like Jack.

She goes on, "I love Jack Nicholson," followed by a sexy smile and small turn to me wanting nothing more than support for her claim. I utter, "Uh, yeah, I can see it." And by this time our "grumpy, sarcastic, yet sometimes in his own way kinda friendly guy" has launched into his best, yet really bad, impersonations. "You can't handle the truth," and "Here's Johnny."

She's laughing hard and I'm getting sick to my stomach, but dig deep for some kind of antic that may steal his thunder. I'll be damned if the best thing I can come up with is a quote from Richard Gere in Officer and a Gentleman. I lean in and say "I can't leave, I've got nowhere else to go." Silence. He stopped, she looked at me like I was a nut bag, then signed her credit card slip, thanked him, and walked out the door.

I'm the next customer and he's giving me this, "Hey, what can I say, when you've got it, you've got it." Yeah, yeah, give me my change. I gave him a huge tip and walked out just in time to see her drive by and wave at "Mr. Nicholson."

Coming next time... My take on company Christmas parties why men who don't like wine go to wine bars.

posted by The Oscillator @ 10:04 AM