This is why I do not work at this bookstore

Today I am at the “rival” chain bookstore while Justin is at work. We took my car this morning because we have an appointment with a photographer tonight and he just so happens to live/work a few minutes away from Justin’s work! A small, small world indeed. Unfortunately, this bookstore is already severely on my nerves and I’ve only been here for about a half-hour. Here is a run-down of the events so far.

***

I left the parking lot of Justin’s building, made a right, went up to the traffic light, made a left and thusly a u-turn, drove for about five minutes, made a u-turn on the righthand side this time, and poof! The bookstore. That was the least stressful part.

Upon entering, I decided to seek out headphones. I have a pair of headphones but unfortunately I also have a pair of stupid earholes. Most headphones won’t fit into my ears (woe is me) and I have been meaning to get a pair of the right kind for months now. I figured I could either find a cheap pair here, or just deal without them, or, worst case scenario, suck it up and use the ones I have, despite their inability to stay put. I made a brief circuit around the store, including the media section, and found not a pair of headphones. Yoga mats? Yes. Things to drown out the noise? Nah. Weird. I shrugged it off and decided I’d put my stuff down, as it was getting heavy, and then continue my quest.

I walked into the cafe and began the Great Outlet Hunt of 2009. A fellow customer noticed and said, “Looking for a place to plug in, huh? Yeah, there’s only two.”

“In the entire cafe?” I asked, incredulous.

“Yeah. I know. Some guy’s using it, so you’ll have to wait. Only thing that sucks about comin’ here.”

He had a mustache, and so I thanked him for his wise words of advice. I recircled the cafe and sat on the opposite side from him (he may have had a mustache, but he was twice my age and kept staring at me because we had an “unable to plug in” connection) by a window. I left my belongings at a table and went to order a drink and a bagel. I came back and a Hispanic male around my age entered the cafe. He saw me and promptly decided to sit across from me. Not in the seat facing the door — no, the seat facing me. Of course. OF COURSE.

Each and every time I look at him to see if he is still looking at me, he (OF COURSE!) still is, but pretends that he is not by averting his eyes. To add insult to injury, he is having an extremely loud conversation on his cell phone, and as I can’t understand a word of it, I am not even able to eavesdrop.

However, I have no choice but to eavesdrop with the other charming neighbors I have around me. The ladies to my left, if you are interested, are three in number and have been discussing everything under the sun. I tuned out after they stopped talking about American Idol. I hope they are on their lunch break. There are two more ladies behind me and diagonal, talking about Senior Cut Day (sadly, not the day where the elderly take a razor to their wrists; I believe they are referring to high school) and scanning in photos of classmates. I assumed they were in high school — nope, they’re middle-aged. There was another lady behind me who began having an extremely loud Eastern European conversation but thankfully had the decency to get up and leave. The lady who took her spot has been quiet thus far and I think she is going to stay that way.

The asshole who is currently the only one plugged into the outlet right now is behind everyone else, against the wall, and every so often I like to turn around and give him a Look. I am hoping he will get the hint. I am not counting on it.

So anyway, with all this noise going on, I figured it was high time to put the Great Headphone Hunt of 2009 into full effect. I made yet another circle around the store, and thought I was going crazy. I asked the sullen girl behind the counter, who is wearing neon pink and leopard print so it’s kind of strange that she’s so sullen with that sort of an outfit, if they sell headphones here.

“Uh, no,” she said, like I was the idiot for asking.

You can say all you like about my chain, that we don’t have certain things in stock and that our ordering system blows and all sorts of other usual customer complaints — but at least we sell headphones. If you are a store that sells music, you should sell headphones. Even italics cannot fully emphasize my anger and disgust.

I only have an hour or so left on l’internet, so I will wrap this up for now. I am praying we find that elusive Panera Bread on Justin’s lunch, land of the free intarwebs. Panera! Panera! How I adore thee! Please be mine! If I have any sanity left by then!

 

EDIT: Oh thank you heavens above for delivering unto me Ye Olde Plugge of Outlette!!!!!! The man finally got the hint. Or maybe he was leaving anyway. Staring Dude is still sitting in his seat and looks utterly defeated because I got up and switched seats. Also, his cell phone rang just as I was getting up and it was an amazingly obnoxious techno ringtone. There’s a party going on over there, and I am so missing it.

FURTHER EDIT: Sorry, but this cannot go without being typed on the internet. Those two ladies who are blabbering about their 30-years-ago high school days are now in front of me, and I have an incredible view from here of the blonde. Not only has she got an insane head of New Jersey Poodle Hair (seriously, I think a yellow poodle died on her head), but she is cross-eyed. Oh, man. Oh, man!!

Good golly, Miss Molly.

So here is my excuse for falling off the face of the planet.

 

Needless to say, I certainly liked pancakes before, but you better believe I love ‘em now. Actually, I haven’t had a pancake since that fateful day. But it’s cool. I got plenty of time. Justin is officially my Pancake Master. Here is what has happened so far since:

1. “God must bless your marriage!” – my mother, hysterical one night during dinner and possibly possessed by demons;  I was not witness to this transformation but my sister had the great fortune of being there and backfiring with her some choice language of her own. The demon has momentarily been put to rest, but I am sure he will resurface.

2. “Justin is a lovely boy and now he will be my grandson!” – my grandmother, always observant and her usual amazing self

3. “Is she pregnant?” – my sister’s boyfriend, who actually was my Junior Prom date many, many moons ago and so luckily, because of that, I am willing to forgive him.. for now. Actually, he’s a very nice person. Maybe this was just a slip. We all make mistakes. High school just happened to hold the majority of mine.

4. “OHHH MY GODDDDD IT’S SO BEEEEEAUTIFUL AAAHHHH WHEN IS IT AAAHHHH DID YOU PICK A DATE YET” etc etc ad nauseam – most co-workers. They’re female. I can’t blame them.

5. “IS THIS ABOUT ANOTHER BRIDAL MAGAZINE??!” – my sister, after I’d called her 3 times in one night while at work

6. “Are you sure you want to do this?” – my dad, mustached and as optimistic as ever

In order, the answers to those questions are:

No; yes!; NO!!!!!; We’re thinking April 24th, 2010; No (it was about Crasian); and yes, yes, yes.

We haven’t figured many of the details out yet but uh, we got some time. Yesterday on my break from work, I was demanded of my mother what colors and sorts of silverware I was planning on having. I said, “For what? The wedding?” and she said, “Nooo, your house!”

Oh, the house I don’t have! Right! In the hopes of clearing up those vital questions, I registered last night and this morning. Thank goodness for teh internets. Not like I know what to really register for, aside from like.. a MacBook. I think that’s entirely reasonable and I made sure to have it shipped to me.

Also yesterday, we ventured to the Philly Free Library to have a looksee as a potential spot for le wedding. It is currently residing in the “perhaps” position. There are probably 9,000 more spots we will visit, along with the other quazillion decisions I am going to be making. All I know is that I would like a cereal buffet, a coffee/tea bar buffet thing, a Death Star cake (for the groom’s cake, not for the actual wedding one, because I don’t think my older relatives would be able to handle that and/or know what the hell it is), books all over the place, there are a couple songs I have already chosen, and of course I need a shitload of unicorns. Oh, and the colors we’ll be using will be dark blue and light blue and cream or something. I am willing to compromise on the actual number of said unicorn shitload. But not by much. I needs them.

So with all that mushy gushy stuff out of the way, let me leave you with this striking tidbit.

CRASIAN WENT TO MY HIGH SCHOOL. SHE IS 34 YEARS OF AGE. SHE HAS A SISTER JUST ONE YEAR OLDER THAN ME, WHO I KNOW, BECAUSE SHE RODE MY BUS. CRASIAN NOT ONLY WENT TO MY HIGH SCHOOL, BUT LIVED IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD.

I don’t think it gets much weirder than that. Oh, wait — she did tell me last night that we, along with her sister and mother, are forming a corporation. I suggested she make some business cards and get back to me, but she told me those are unnecessary — we are replacing the CIA. 

Sigh.

I could keep going, but really — who wants to hear about silly wedding plans, and there is only so much Crasian one can handle in one’s day. Plus, I have to go RUN. On a TREADMILL. Gah, the things I do for love.