I have heard some horrible lines lately. Friday evening I got a call from a guy I used to almost like. We both work in conservation...he's about the same age, pretty good looking, but actually kind of a jerk and we don't have much to talk about besides work stuff. Our conversations are kind of contemptuous and strange but that doesn't stop him from calling me every 6 months or so to see if I want to drive to his house and be bored out of my mind. So we were talking about current management strategies *yawn* (did I forget to mention how desperate I am for conversation?) and I told him something that he didn't already know and he was really surprised. Then the conversation took the following turn:
Mr. Goat: Where did you hear that? Ms. Snail: Oh, you know, just the grapevine. Mr. Goat: Oh, you mean Dr. Windows 98. Ms. Snail: No, actually, we haven't discussed it...What? You don't think I'm well-connected enough? Mr. Goat: No... I think all your parts are VERY well connected.
Oh yes, bring on the cheap flattery and innuendo! As. If.
Then last night I was at the wine store, helping a customer (round, shiny and a bit smelly) remember a wine. He insisted it was from Portugal (WINE NOTE: the new wines from Portugal are getting really hot...don't be afraid of grape varietals you haven't heard of) and he had gotten it in Delaware about 4 years ago. So basically the chance we have it is like...zero.We were standing in front of the 8 Portuguese wines we carry. None of which at all matched the name he was struggling to remember/pronounce. Then he busts out with:
Mr. Turd: Beautiful women always get me tongue-tied. Ms. Snail: Well, let me find someone else to help you.
So I tried to pawn him off on N___ who is a sweet mannered over caffeinated Japanese guy but he was too busy with another genius customer. And then Mr. Turd suddenly remembered the name he was thinking of.
Mr. Turd: Beaujolais! Ms. Snail: (longest pause ever)That's French. (long walk across store to French wines)
What ensued was a comparison of 2 cheap Beaujolais, me just trying to get him to decide, several off color inappropriate sexual remarks about the French woman he was married to for a little while, how he is lonely, here on business, doesn't hardly even drink wine (no kidding). And then this old sleaze said:
Mr. Turd: You know, I'm looking for a playmate. Ms. Snail: Hahaha. That will be ten forty six. Mr. Turd: Well I know you work here so I'll come back in to see you soon.
So there it is. That time of month that brings out the creeps is upon us. Ladies, leave the house with your wit sharpened and a stick with some poo on the end...just in case they get too close.