Tornadoes and Tiny Cups

It's amazing how bad weather can change your entire outlook on life, even if it's for just a second. There is talk of tornadoes in Atlanta and merely the notion has the ability to send everyone into a state of excited panic The sunny blue skies I enjoyed on my drive home quickly have turned to a hot, muggy, ominous, foreboding situation. Complete with winds and dark clouds speeding across the sky.

Moments ago a flurry of phone calls were made and received on my part. The Captain told me tennis ball sized hail was spotted in Carrollton. Bons called me in a panic over what to do with her new car. I could hear the thunder in Freddy’s background in Duluth. I talked to my mom on her way home from work and told her not to go for a run outside, as the storm was sure to quickly make it’s way to Buckhead. As I write this, the weather seems to have cleared up.

A couple of hours ago I had an important topic to disclose. So here goes:

On my lunch break, which I finally allowed myself to take at 4:30 PM, I went to Panera. And let me just say: It was pissing me off. Namely, the cup situation. With my late lunch of a chicken and sun-dried tomato sandwich I asked for a glass of water. You know, that thing that sustains all life?

I was parched. Dy-ing of thirst. What did they give me to alleviate my dehydration? If you guessed that I was provided with a 2 oz receptacle, you guessed right.

I never thought I would be looking around frantically hoping a cup akin to one you get on an airplane might appear before my eyes. I was tempted to throw down the $1.25 a drink, (more like a cup...cause that's apparently what you are paying for people), just so I could have a reasonable cup with which to drink water. But the concept is too ridiculous.

Here comes the rain in Midtown. Everything outside my window looks extra green against a gray sky. Maybe I should be collecting it for my next lunch break.

It's the principle of the thing. For a possibly carcogenic, man-made, carbonated, sugar-filled fountain beverage you are supplied with an environmentally friendly, recycled, and glorious sized 12 oz cup. And for water, a minute plastic object. Oh the irony.

That was quick. I guess I can go to dinner. They sky is faintly pink and I need a margarita.

Analyzing Armpits and Strange Clerks

I knew it wouldn't be too long before I had some madness to report. If I hadn't killed so many brain cells I might even know where to begin. It commenced with the Braves game. After a long week at work I was exhausted and all I wanted to do was take a nap. And nap I did. An ineffective one I might add. It ended with both of my arms dead from the shoulder down and somehow this led me to hit myself in the face. So I decided it was time to wake up. Call my cousin, (aka Mate), and get myself to the game.

Things have a strange way of working out when it's just the two of us. (Any of my friends really...if it's just me and them). Two girls apparently is an approachable number and usually leads to unexpected gifts and favors.

Like the time me and BonBon walked to Landmark diner and ended up with free food, cab fare home and a scheduled rendezvous for a helicopter ride the next morning.

So, true to form, we arrive, run into a friend of a friend who works there. Get into the 755 club, get a free drink and lo and behold....run into friends. Namely this guy who is one of those people I can't help but see everywhere and I know from a past life (high school that is). He was part of a three week trip I took out West with 150 kids. When I see him I always think about his eyebrow piercing.

Side note Mate is feeding me fresh squeezed grapefruit/orange vodka drinks and a small baguette I was coerced into purchasing when I made my annual appearance in a grocery store an hour ago. Those places are amazing! I might begin to frequent them more often.

Back to the game. It was of course a downward spiral after we were forced to chug our ice cold beers before being admitted to said club. Braves games are infectious and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and we won! I, being a good luck charm. Afterwards fireworks.

So it wasn't too bad. Astounding that we couldn't find anyone to go with. But admirable that we were able to find our way to Turner Field without any and all guys (who we always seem to wind up dragging along with us). That’s what it feels like too. Mate and I always seem to drag our victim around in a flurry of...yes, social drama terrorism.

I base potential suitors on their performance with me and mate. If you can handle us. You can handle anything. She was not kidding about this drink being strong.

After the game it was the great debate of Buckhead or Virginia Highlands of course. Buckhead, being the winner. We started at Fados then it was on to Park Bench. (Eyebrow piercing is in tow of course). Live music, a dust of adderall and one strong shot later I was very very very drunk.

So where do you go when you're drunk and want to see everyone you know?
PoolHall.

It was at Pool Hall that I got into several altercations. One being with the bartender...when he so rudely shined a flashlight at me when I didn’t whip out my credit card at the first appearance of our drinks. And I jokingly commented that next time I needed something from him I would be sure to shine a flashlight in his eye. At which point he threw my credit card on the ground and reneged our drinks. What an asshole. Take it easy buddy. So we get drinks at the other end of the bar from a not quite as ridiculous person.

At one point I was walking to the bathroom and the Street performer’s girlfriend pretended to run into me. Got to love this move as it reeks of quiet desperation.
I said,"Are you joking?"

To which she responded "I was trying to go this way" and I said "ok..." and continued walking to the bathroom at which point she started loudly saying my name coupled with nonsense and I just ignored her.

(The street performer was a three week fling I had last summer and the whole time he continued to talk to this girl. In front of me, even. Which I expected would result in them getting back together. Well apparently she cannot handle it.)

He was also there and of course one of the numerous people I called to go to the Braves game. No answer or response on his part which was the smallest altercation of the night when I said to him "I called you earlier." And he said "Oh you did?" like he really didn't know which came off as what it was...a bad lie.

So the night ended with her coming up to me and loudly and sarcastically saying "It was so nice to meet you HEDONE" And I was like "I'm sorry were we just formally introduced by you pretending to run into me?" That is what is what I wish I said. But in actuality I just said the truth...I've never met you. I know who you are. But we have never been introduced. To which she loudly assaulted me with "I met you one time before and you were acting like my best friend." Which I assume she was referring to a night I was in a jovial mood and was laughing and talking with friends (namely the street performer) and she glared at me from a corner. But I had never actually met her. As I am trying to explain to her that: yes I know who you are. But No we've never met. Mate is standing by saying "What? I don't understand! Who is this person!?" Which I am trying to quiet so I can continue my calm bitchy resolve.

But the conversation ended when her older brother's girlfriend, who happens to be a friend of mine tackled her away. (Seeing the conversation from across the bar and realizing it was going nowhere fast and gaining in tension.)

Next, her older brother (a friend on mine from middle school) walked by and I told him:"Your sister's a real sweetheart."

In his British accent he responded:"She's actually kind of a bitch, really."

I much appreciate the fact that those who know her best are on my side.

Next step? A group hug and a cab ride back to Mates house in Sandy Springs. (Eyebrow piercing still in tow.) Strange, that I have decided to call him this as he doesn't even have it anymore. But anyways, we were up till probably 4am drinking St Pauli's Girl and blasting music in the computer room which I am now writing this in.

Other fun facts include the sexy nightgowns we apparently decided to put on. And I had a mild make out session with eyebrow piercing.

Maybe I actually got sun today. My face feels hot.

Yes, I didn't know where I was when I woke up.

My mom came to get us. Since we so brilliantly went back to Mate's place instead of mine and her car was in Buckhead.

Did I mention we slept until 12:40? Absurd.

Finally, we make it to the pool, where beforehand I accidentally befriended the leasing agent who later turns out to have several tattoos, an affinity for wife beaters and bears a strong resemblance to a pedophile.

So it was at the pool that Mate and I were laying on towels analyzing our armpits. After the pool we went to the grocery store and the liquor store (I realize I paint the picture of a raging alcoholic) where there was a strange life-size cardboard cut out of a robot in a thong with the statement "The Future of Adult Entertainment." To which I exclaimed. "What?"

The clerk then asked me what was wrong with a robot? Yikes.

As we quickly walked out we realized mate was straight out of Mario Cart and had literally run over a banana.

At our next stop Mate and I were disgusted by Twinkies, determined that Evian had a weird taste and Smartwater is better. I then nearly fell on the carpet and realized that I probably have no money in my account.

I'm going to wrap this up because I'm getting a buzz and have grand plans for the evening.

It Has to Start Somewhere

Let me lay it out for you. Currently I am listening to Sean Kingston in a cubicle that I share with 5 people. Just got rejected from two jobs. Am a little jacked up on Mountain Dew. And undecided on who I will be attending the Braves game with.