Random Esquire

Friday

Boss had PMS on Friday. That is all I am saying about that.

Saturday

I saw my sister and my niece on Saturday. She is three months old. I know this sounds crazy but when I pick her up, I can tell instantly if she has a dirty diaper because she smells like breakfast sausage. No, I am not crazy. I have a well tuned nose and I am telling you, that little girl is making hot links. I mentioned this to my sister. She thought I was crazy and then later came back and told me that she is taking some sort of supplement with fennel (for her breast milk, I think…I don’t know…she and her husband are both doctors so who am I to question these things…) and that’s what smells. See, kids, this nose knows.

Boss and I went out on Saturday for dinner (with Little Filthy who had to sit outside the fenced in tables) and met up with Shim from the office. We were pleased to finally meet Shim’s boyfriend, The Russian. I wish I could take credit for naming The Russian but that’s what everyone calls him. The Russian has a good job, owns a place and has a FICO score that makes the average person drool. For this, we all love him. Of course, some people might say that I am FICO PSYCHO but they likely know nothing about unlimited credit. The Russian’s FICO …it is beautiful.

Sunday

We were up early on Sunday to go out for breakfast before meeting up with Shim and The Russian to watch the Gay Pride Parade with them. Alas, our timing did not match up so we did not see them. We watched about half of the parade before heading home to relax for the rest of the day.

Random Future Event

We are going to watch the taping of Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me (On NPR) on Thursday night. I bought the tickets to take my father for Father’s Day. He can no longer attend and so Boss and I will go and sit amongst the 60 year olds. Maybe I will try to convince them that we retired early and are really enjoying all the free time we have now.

Something is wrong with me because I feel like bugging Boss. I do not have any good reason for this other than I like her attention. Is this how Little Filthy feels all of the time?

Boss is writing a paper tonight. I typically proofread her papers. This once saved her from turning in a paper which lauded a race and education study that concentrated on caucasian students. Except, to paraphrase, it read something like this: “I’m glad there was finally a study of white kids in education.” What she meant was that it was interesting to read how race affects white children in elementary education. What it sounded like was, “Well, thank God someone finally thought of the white kids.”

This is made more amusing to me because I am half white. Boss is a WASP. One of my joys is when Boss says something distinctly “non-white” and I say, “Honey, it is so cute when you act ethnic.”

I still feel like bugging Boss. These things happen. Sometimes, I am just one big Boss Attention Deficit. I have Boss Attention Deficit Disorder. BADD. I like to admit these things. It makes me feel like a bigger person. As if somehow, admitting this insane need to have even her ice cold feet on me in bed makes me a more honest and raw human being.

I am going to read this to her now and see what she says.

She said, “You’re retarded.”

1. Did you see the African American family on the Amazing Race? Their last name was Black. The show called them “The Black Family.” This tickled me.

Now, on the show Treasure Hunters, there is another African American family. They are “The Brown Family.”

I secretly wish they were Hispanic.

2. I told my sister about seeing the white tiger. She said, “I would have called Animal Control. I would have gotten their license plate.”

I said, “I would have died.”

Look, people who deal drugs sometimes kill people. They don’t scare me. These people deal TIGER. You can’t even do that recreationally. You’re pretty much committed if you’re doing TIGER. No one just does TIGER on the weekends.

3. Fresh Express walked around with toothpaste drool on her chin today. And all day, it looked like a bullseye to me.

4. I volunteered to negotiate a contract today for another attorney who is swamped. I got the contract. It is 81 pages. I groaned like someone throat punched me.

Boss and I decided to go out to eat tonight. This is not so much a surprise as, many days, the call to dinner begins with “I’m hungry” and ends with “Don’t forget to lock the door.”

Here’s what is different about our night out. Boss tried to kill me.

As I drove by a car nearing the restaurant, Boss noticed the back hatch of the car parked along the side of the road was open and some men were looking inside. She said, “There was a tiger in there! A white tiger!” We parked just around the corner and Boss insisted that I walk back around the corner and confirm that it was a white tiger in the back seat of the car.

Let me set up this scene for you. It’s dark. We’re in a neighborhood unfamiliar to us and slightly dodgy. The man looking into the car looked like he would just as soon shoot me as look as me. And Boss insisted that I deliberately walk around the corner and peer into his car, looking for a white tiger.

So I walked around the corner and pretended to be slightly lost while glancing at the car.

And in the backseat was a white tiger.

What the hell.

You have to be careful what you wish for.

Because when Britney Spears was at the height of sexy, I said, “My God, I hope she goes downhill quickly enough that she’s forced to pose in Playboy before she gets too old.”

Yeah.

Not so much.

I’ve put in 20+ hours in the last two days on the same negotiation and still, the other party threatens to walk away. Just once, I would like to say, “Sit your ass down.” But, of course, I can’t. The sales team manager would drop her blob. He’s giving our team blue balls. And each time he throws a fit about something, one of my team members goes and shakes a rattle at him until he smiles. Also known as “talking him down from the ledge.” This is why I could not be a sales person. I told Churro that my sales team will just keep giving this customer a blow job until he finally just pushes them away and says it just isn’t working for him and this just isn’t going to happen. All that excitement for nothing.

Sales people think attorneys just get in the way of business and closing deals. The sales team starts foreplay with the Customer and they are just about to seal the deal when I wedge myself in between the two of them and say, “HEY, how about a condom? I mean, I know you both talked it out and trust each other…but, you know…just in case.”

A little protection.

I know it doesn’t feel as good for either of you but you’re both fully protected.

I kill the mood.

I’m an attorney. It’s what I do.

The stupidest girl I ever dated was COLLEGE. Thus named because she was as dumb as John Belushi in Animal House and because she lied to me about having gone to college.

COLLEGE once said to me that she felt badly for Albert Einstein because imagine the pressure he must have had growing up to be intelligent. I looked at her blankly and she said, “You know…with that name…”

One day, I was constructing our bed frame and grabbed a socket wrench from the makeshift tool box we used which was leftover from her previous apartment life. I asked COLLEGE to find the right socket. She said, “I don’t have any sockets.” I said, “What? You must. You have a socket wrench.” She said, ‘No, when Kimmy and I moved out, we split up the tools.” I looked at her. “So…you got the socket wrench and…..she got the sockets?” She nodded.

It didn’t last very long.