3 posts tagged “ouch”

I was reading Smart Bitches Who Love Trashy Books (such a fabulous site, though I am not a huge fan of romance novels), and this post, as well as the comments that follow, got me thinking.

I buy books as often as I can.   I love walking into my local B&N.  When I was younger, there was an indie bookstore that my dad would take us to...I would always spend my allowance on the Fear Street series.  At some point, this particular bookstore stopped selling new books, moved to the bad part of town, and turned into a haven for bums.  There are two or three other family-owned bookstores in Tyler, but they are all the same.  Now B&N is the only place for me.

Sometimes, I can't find what I'm looking for, and I buy it online (always from Amazon).  It doesn't take as long and is often cheaper than special-ordering it from the store. 

When I saw the New Yorker cover, my first reaction was smugness.  Then I realized that just because I buy from a local store, doesn't mean I'm any better.  That's because I'm buying from a huge chain.  It makes me wish we had indie shops that were a little brighter and more organized, not to mention safer.  Central Florida spoiled me.   Boston and especially Cambridge really spoiled me (there are some Cambridge peeps in the post's comments, and they make me sad with their bragging and I really want to live there someday BOOHOO).  I'd have to drive out to Dallas to find anything similar.

I guess it just makes me a little sad that we've all grown so accustomed to convenience, instant gratification, and high-priced coffee that we let ourselves and our local businesses down. 

Just a thought. 

Tonight, Barnes & Noble cafe:

Me: Hi, I'll take this book and a venti coffee frappuccino, please.

Cute Cafe Guy 1: Sure, will that be all?  No cookies, cupcakes, various other things that will make you feel bad about yourself tomorrow? (<---that last part might be an exaggeration)

Me: No, thanks.

Cute Cafe Guy 2: Heeey!  What're you up to?

Me: (looks around, trying to make way for the person he's talking to, and sees no one) Uh, nothing...you?

Cute Cafe Guy 2: Not much, just making your coffee.  Venti coffee frap, right?

Me: Uh, yeah.

(several minutes pass)

Cute Cafe Guy 2: So, you always order this, right?

Me: Usually.

Cute Cafe Guy 2: (hands over drink, does not let go) And what's your name?

Me: (I'm kinda deaf, so I wasn't sure I heard right) Uh, pardon?

Cute Cafe Guy 2: Your name.  What is it?

Me: Oh!  Aubrey.

Cute Cafe Guy 2: Hi, Aubrey.  I'm Donnie. (I think that's what he said.  As I mentioned, I'm kinda deaf.)

Me: Nice to meet you.

Donnie (??): Nice to meet you.  See you next time?

Me: Sure.  Goodnight.

Cute Cafe Guy 1: Have a good one!

Me: EEK! (runs away)

God, I feel like this means one of two things...either that I've become one of those weird "regulars", and they want to know my name so that they can accurately fill out a police report when I'm mistaken as a stalker, or perhaps that Donnie(??) has taken an interest.  You know what?  He's probably just a very nice young man (VERY young...maybe 20 or 21) who takes an active interest in his customers.  I think I'm going to make a sign to wear around my neck that says, "Hi, I'm Aubrey.  I am a 26-year-old divorcee who smokes like a chimney and gets strung out on coffee at least four times a week.  Please, don't display behavior that could, in any way, resemble flirting...it only confuses me.  Thank you."  Leslie's all like, "You know, maybe they know you now as the hot chick who comes in all the time."  Pshaw...what-the-hell-ever.  I look a lot better than I used to, but I ain't no hot chick.

I have seriously screwed up one of my toes, and am currently hobbling around like a pimp, or possibly a penguin.  I skinned it pretty badly while rummaging around in the dark, and I have nightmares now about gangrene and amputation.  Thank God I just got a tetanus shot last month.

This was my eighth day in a row of working two jobs, and I have asked to be scheduled every weekend at the music store until I drop, in addition to my M-F at the bank.  As of right now, I'll be working 20 of the next 21 days.  Lots of money and no time to spend it.  That's my plan, anyway.  I may die of exhaustion long before then.

My friends and I have a habit of falling in love with fictional characters or celebrities.  Leslie's got Mr. Darcy and Edward Cullens, Kristi's got Orlando Bloom, and I have too many to name.  I recently became a fan of Ugly Betty, and am trying to catch up on all the episodes that I've missed.  Now I've got a thing for Gio, who may be the most perfect fictional character ever created.  I want one.  He's sweet, funny, he can dance, has a killer accent, and he genuinely falls for Betty, the girl that so many people find unattractive and frumpy (they're all assholes, I say).  What a fairytale. SPOILERS AHEAD, KINDA!!  He's got this great line in the most recent episode, and my little heart went *wibble-wibble* all over it.  "I don't want to be the rebound guy.  I want to be the guy."  God dang it.  That's the best line ever.  I'm going to cry.

      

 

Who the hell, at 26 years of age, somehow manages to find herself crouching behind an SUV with three friends at two in the morning, trying to hide from some guy we went to high school with?  Who doesn't get the signal to "MOVE!  HE SEES US!" quickly enough (I blame the beer) and ends up busting her hiney in a dark driveway? 

The awesomeness is just overwhelming.  Really, it is.