Random Esquire

There’s a Rock Paper Scissors World Championship in Toronto. The mind boggles. Apparently, sometimes the competition is…heated.

Just how much strategy is involved in this?

I stand corrected. Professional Rock Paper Scissors strategy? That is truly messed up. The website actually says, “How to kick some a**.”

I was up until 2:30 last night, reading reviews on Trip Advisor and looking at hotels to put some structure to this Puerto Rico vacation. It isn’t easy when you want to do it all. I woke up at cockadoodle dark because Little Filthy licked my eye. Hmm. I suppose by leaving that in my journal, Boss will be able to confirm what she already suspects -that I let him sleep in the bed. I’m sure this won’t shock her.

There is a kleenex on the coffee table and Little Filthy is circling, circling the table like a shark; he goes so far as to give the kleenex a test bump with his mouth to see if I am watching. I just leaned over and gave his butt a little pinch. Didn’t faze him. Rotten meatball.

Must get coffee. We have no coffee in this place. I thought we’d have some beans in the freezer but I already had my moment of coffee panic while emptying the freezer on to the counter top. I’m off to kill and drag home some coffee.

I get Blank Face. Sometimes, when I am about to say something and I don’t want to attach any emotion to it, I get Blank Face. I can’t help it. I void out the physical look on my face so that it does not compound what is about to come out of my mouth. It happened this morning.

A co-worker and I went for a cup of coffee. There was a woman in line with us and she grabbed both my co-worker and I by the elbow and said, “I need you both to be brutally honest with me - brutally honest. I’m going to ask you something.” I almost blurted out, “I hate your hair.” I thought it might be funny to assume her question in such a rude way. I often think these things would be funny but they rarely are. Anyway, I remained silent. She didn’t appear nervous - she was grinning. Co-worker and I looked at her. She said, moving her hands up and down the front of her body, “Am I dressed okay for an interview? Do I look okay?” It was very clear that she thought she looked fantastic. She did not. I know fantastic. I wake up next to fantastic. I said, “Are you doing the interview or being interviewed?” She said, “I am being interviewed.” I said, “What kind of position?” She said, “Adminstrative assistant.” I said, “Yes, you’re fine.” She then babbled on about how she wasn’t feeling it and hoped it would be okay. I turned back to order coffee. She went on to say, laughing, “Like, what, I wouldn’t be dressed okay to be a CEO?”

And then I got Blank Face.

She wanted me to be brutally honest but I couldn’t very well say, “Not with those Bass Weejuns, ma’am.” (Have I mentioned before that I hate penny loafers?) So I blanked out my face and gave the most straight answer I could. I looked at her with my dead eyes and said, “No, not for a CEO.”

She looked a bit stunned but chatted some more, preventing me from turning away to order my coffee. She ended me by asking, one more time, “You sure I look okay?”

I said, “I’m changing my mind.” She laughed and said, “Good thing I’m not interviewing with you!”

I need Blank Face. It keeps me from compounding the rudeness that comes out of my mouth with a look of utter astonishment or disgust.