You're Paying For This

The phone on my desk stopped working a week ago and I have no idea why. I sent an email to technical support explaining my issue and received no response... So this morning I sent a follow up email... I finally got a response back from a supervisor who wrote me that it was my fault nobody had spoken to me yet because he's been trying to call me for 3 days but I haven't answered. He even ended the sentence in an (!) to drive the point home that I was to blame.

He's trying to call me on my broken phone, but I'm the idiot... It took another 2 emails before he came to fully understand why it was a bad time to try and communicate with me via phone. It would be funny if not for the fact that this moron probably gets paid $75,000 worth of your hard earned tax money per year.

Aside from that I really don't have much to blog about... I saw Dark Knight, and surprise, it was really good. So let me be the 438th person to recommend to you that you go see the movie if you haven't already.

I think I need to start writing in my Journal more often... It generated a constant source of material for me to use on the blog, but I've since stopped using it. With all the crap I have to carry around everyday it got to be too much. So now I'm back to the idea of a messenger bag... Thus far I've narrowed the list to these 3:

[A]
[B]

[C]
What do you think?

Please feel free to add another bag to the list if none of those agree with you.

Bike Assault

I was attacked by a woman on a bike in the Metro on Tuesday... The train was crowded and I was standing in front of the doors because my stop was approaching. Suddenly the woman with the bike (who will be referred to as 'Bike Bitch' from this point on) decided that she wanted to get off on this stop as well, only her bike was facing the wrong direction...

I heard her exclaim "Excuse me!" with an annoyed tone of voice but I wasn't sure who she was talking to... When her bike wheel being jammed into the back of my calf I realized it was probably me she was speaking to. I looked back to see her giving me the evil eye.

"I have to get off on this stop!" she exclaimed as she continued to ram her wheel into my leg.

"Me too..." I replied as calmly as I could considering she was ramming me with a bike wheel.

I knew she wanted me to move so she could spin her bike around to face the doors, but [a] I had no where to move to, and [b] why the fuck should everyone on a crowded train have to be inconvenienced so 'Bike Bitch' could spin her bike around to face the right direction? Couldn't she just push it out backwards? Couldn't she maybe figure out which was the doors would open on the her stop ahead of time? Even if I could have moved I don't know that I would have done it for her, but like I said, I had no choice... There was no where for me to go...

The train started to slow down as the stop approached. 'Bike Bitch' was now working herself into a panic. She started screeching and cursing. People around us began to uncomfortably look to the floor so the could avoid eye contact with her. I was being left to deal with her on my own.

"What do you want me to do?" I plead with her. "There is no where for me to go, just wait your turn we'll all be able to get off the train," I explained. She didn't respond, she just kept ramming my leg.

At this point the train comes to a merciful stop and I'm waiting for the doors to open so I can get away from this ugly incident... Just when I think it's about over 'Bike Bitch' decides to ram my leg once more, but this time with all of her strength. Her foot pedal slams flush onto my shin.

This is my tipping point... I angrily shove the bike back at her and spew a string of curse words to let her know I've had about enough of her shit. But regrettably, that only escalated the incident.

When the doors finally slid open we were engaged in a bizarre game of reverse tug of a war with the bike, pushing it back in forth at each other. I finally just decided to let go, get off the train, and walk away. 'Bike Bitch' was only about 5'1" and 110 pounds but I never underestimate the strength of a crazy woman. As I walked away she continued to scream obscenities at me. I think she even called me a cracker, but I'm not sure.

I still have a bruise on my shin from her pedal. It stung pretty bad for the better part of an hour after the incident, but once it was over and I had a chance to calm down about it the first thing I thought was, "I can't wait to blog about this!"

The New Ashley

About a year ago a coworker that I had grown to like told me he was leaving our office. He was working on a temp-to-hire basis doing clerical type stuff and so I certainly wasn't shocked that he was leaving, but like I said, I had grown to like him very much. Not only was he the only guy at my work that could talk soccer, but he once worked a summer as a Black Jack dealer in Atlantic City! We never ran out of things to talk about. So, I took the news of his departure rather poorly.

And then I found that his replacement was a girl fresh out of college named Ashley. Suddenly I was able to cope with the loss of my friend a lot easier.

Ashley is one of those names where you just know the person attached to it will be attractive. I immediately envisioned the kind of sultry young vixen that would leave me tongue tied and longing for the days bachelorhood. I don't know if it's possible to have a crush on someone before you've met them, but I had developed something close to that a full week and half before "Ashley" even stepped foot in our office.

Moe Greene and I even had a long discussion about what Ashley would look like? (Judd or Simpson?) and what other names fell under that category of "names of girls you know will be hot"? (Monica, Amber, Heather, Tyra).

So you can imagine the profound disappointment I felt when I arrived at work one Monday morning to find not a hot Ashley, but an Ashley that had a striking resemblance to The Notorious B.I.G... and if that wasn't enough, her voice was deeper than mine, she smoked Marlboro Reds, and she had a nasty habit of wearing jeans that exposed her plumbers crack!


I immediately called Moe Greene and was, I'm now sad to say, beside myself with anger that this girl would have the audacity to get my hopes up and then show up to work with a name like Ashley and be... her...

As soon as I released my anger I felt guilty... and of course she turned out to be a wonderful person. She was intelligent, funny, and damn good at her job to boot. Within a week we all realized how crappy a job my soccer friend had done. Everything ran smoother with Ashley holding down his old job... And as if she had somehow known how disappointed I was in her not living up to her name she proceeded to loose about 30 pounds, quit smoking, discover makeup and get hair extensions. She was like a makeover story come to life... Of course she never did quite shake that habit of showing plumbers crack, but nobodies perfect. Ashley won me over and every time I think back to my initial reaction to her I cringe with guilt.

When she told me she'd gotten the job offer of her dreams I was happy for her but once again sad to see a friend leave... She's been replaced by a girl named Amy... An indifferent name, and I must say that, in this case, the name fits. Aside from a British accent there isn't much special about Amy so far... She certainly hasn't made me forget Ashley the way Ashley made me forget old what's his name... But I'm not going to get disappointed. She may surprise me yet.

I wonder if anyone has ever been disappointed by my name? I'm certainly nothing special to look at, but then again, Joel, isn't one of those "Ashley" names... Actually, now that I think about it, are there any guy names like that?