Random Esquire

1. Tomorrow night, I’ve been invited to, and will attend, a tasting at a seafood place. The last tasting I went to I was served 5 appetizers, 9 entrees and 4 desserts. I’m not sure I want to contemplate eating that much seafood. I think shrimp are over-rated. I realize this is blasphemy to some but, there you have it. I am so-so about shrimp. I like scallops and oysters. But here’s the thing with oysters - and mussels, too, for that matter - I sometimes have to not think about the fact that I’m eating its digestive system. Like, the things that were on the way out.

I figure that if the mussel has eaten it and I’m eating the mussel…I’m too high on the food chain to be eating the parts of its food that even it has declared as waste. It’s clearly a matter of how large the animal is and how difficult it is to clean and perhaps how offensive the taste must be - but it still strikes me as odd that at some point, we simply shrug and swallow it down. It’s a little disgusting, quite frankly.

2. I read through the Sleep Quirks comments again. Good God, you guys are a bunch of weirdos. I shouldn’t read them a third time or I’ll start trying half of them just to see how they feel.

3. As I walk to work, I often watch the feet of the people in front of me. The women in their heels avoiding the grates, etc. Okay, so maybe I’m looking at some of the legs attached to the heels since it is summer. But I’ve noticed something that only men seem to do. Some guys bounce up on to the balls of their feet, lifting their heel, immediately after taking a step. As a result, they appear to bounce along as they walk. It isn’t always dramatic, but their heel leaves the ground long before it is getting ready to take the next step. Women never seem to do this. Probably because it looks a little stupid.

4. I sometimes say some things that I think are ’sayings’ but may, in fact, just be stupid things I say. Like:

a) Don’t drop your blob.

b) Sleep faster; we need the pillows.

c) She’ll smoke your sausage and eat your cigarettes.

Surely I didn’t make this kind of nonsense up.

1. You may recall the previous entry in which I briefly discussed The Italian’s gratitude toward someone who helped his girlfriend pick out a certain something for her to wear. There was some natural curiosity about what exactly this outfit was. I couldn’t figure it out from the description he gave me so today, while we were on the phone, he found it online and sent me the link. I opened it up and looked at the picture. And then I said to him, “You. Fucking. Lucky. Bastard.”

Calling it an outfit is accurate. Because…parts of it were cut out. And the rest of it was see-through.

Bastard.

2. I sent flowers to Besos on Friday. Her reaction? She called me and sing-songed, “Youuuu liiiike meeeee.” It made me want to laugh and pull out my hair at the same time.

I told The Italian that I sent her flowers. He was shocked. He said, “You sent her flowers?! Flowers are a declaration. And it ain’t the declaration of independence.”

Bastard.

3. The other day, Besos said to me, “I have big feet.” Unless a girl’s feet are slapping around like clown shoes, I am unlikely to notice or care. I had never thought her feet were big so I was unsure how to respond. I mean, she doesn’t look like she’s going to topple over or anything but I’ve also never looked at her and thought to myself that it would take a pretty healthy gale to tip her over, either. I just don’t notice these things.

Today, she sent me a text message: “I also have a big head. You might want to trade me in for a smaller model.” She’s 5′4″. How big can her head be? Here is our exchange:

RE: “Oh yeah? Trade you for someone with a smaller head and smaller feet?”

Besos: “Exactly.”

RE: “I’ll take out an ad.”

Besos: “Oh.”

RE: “Yeah, I thought about it some more and I’m just going to deal with your big noggin. But we’re going to lop off your feet. That seems like a good compromise.”

Besos: “Hey! But they are pretty.”

RE: “Okay, you can keep the feet and we’ll just lop off the toes.”

Besos: “Okay…I guess.”

See? I am solution oriented.

My work on Friday afternoon was diverted with The Italian called me.  And he wished to talk Plush.  So we talked Plush.  Then, he broke out in song.  About Plush.  I told him he should sing to her and, never one to shy from a dare, he said, “Then call her!  Let’s conference her in.”

So I called her.  Mind you, The Italian and Plush have never met.  I said, “I have someone on the other line who wants to say something to you.”  Plush, completely unfazed, said, “Okay!”  So I made the connection and then…then, my friends, The Italian serenaded Plush with…Brandy.  As in, “Plush, you’re fine girl, what a good wife you would be! But my life, my love and my lady is the sea.”

Seriously.

Plush laughed and complimented his singing.  This was generous of her because Plush…well, suffice to say that Plush can sing.  Then I told the Italian that he should sing the theme song from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air (one of his favorite things to do).  He asked her to sing along.  Did I mention that Plush was at the gym and on the ab machine?  Yeah.  So I pointed my handy Treo at the phone and recorded it as they both sang the entire song…The Italian while driving and Plush while doing crunches.

These two must never meet.  Complete chaos would ensue.  However, it is hopeless to wish some things never to come to pass because the Italian is coming to Chicago to visit this summer and I know he will not rest until he has a dose of Plush.

Prepare thyself, Random.

1. I told a friend today I was going to hell. His response? “Upgrade to first class so we can sit next to each other.”

2. If a girl shows you the massive bug bite on her swollen, red thumb, you should say, “Whoa, that looks painful! Does it hurt?”

You should not say, “Might as well get that cut off now. Spare yourself the agony of watching it rot off.”

That is what you should not do.

3. I had lunch with Instigator today. I paid. You know why? Because she was wearing a skirt and put on lipstick. I’m a simple creature. I believe there will be a party at Instigator’s place in August. Getting invited is like scoring an invite to the Oscars. I asked if there would be a swag bag. She said yes, we’d have to bring one in order to get into the party.

4. I mis-text a lot. Please tell me I’m not alone. I’ll send a text message and then realize I sent it to the completely wrong person. It isn’t entirely my fault. It’s how my phone stores text messages. But…yeah, not so smooth.

5. I had the chance of meeting Ms. Single Mama last night but circumstances prevented it. Circumstances being United Airlines. Which sucks.

1. Spanish is not my second language. Or my third. Or, really, a fourth. In fact, I’m fairly ignorant when it comes to Spanish. However, I have been seeing a woman whose first language is Spanish and I have steadfastly refused to ask her to speak Spanish to me. You get what I mean, no? I figure this is common and I refuse to do it. The topic has not arisen much but today *cough* we actually discussed it when she asked me if I would care that if she did speak Spanish to me in bed, I would not understand it.I said, “No.”

She said, “NO? Wouldn’t you want to know what I was saying?!”

I said, “It doesn’t matter what you’re saying. In my head, I’m just going to imagine that it’s the filthiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She said, “WHAT?!”

I responded, “Which, by the way, is what everyone who doesn’t speak Spanish has been doing.”

We’re still seeing each other. I figure we’ve survived a hurdle. Namely, my personality.

2. I am off to D.C. on business this week. I’m often wont to hear advice from Instigator and promptly ignore it, to my own detriment. It has inspired me to refer to a ‘What would Instigator Do’ bracelet. I need one. For instance, despite the fact that I could leave the meetings I am attending at an earlier time, I conservatively chose to leave D.C. at a later time, taking the same flight at the boss. Instigator would not do this. Instigator does not have difficultly deciding if she’d rather fish or cut bait. When I told her when I was leaving, she said, “Are you kidding? Are you crazy? Random, Random, Random - were you not wearing your ‘WWID’ bracelet when you made these plans? *sigh*”

I make Instigator nuts.

3. Lynchseattle and Bev, his wife, are with their kids at Disney World. His Twitter update: “Never has such a variety of Croc-laden people been in such a close proximity. It looks like a clown convention.”

Instigator and I had an interesting conversation about Tim Russert yesterday.  Instigator was saddened by his death and lamented the fact that someone else less meaningful to her hadn’t died, instead.

In fact, what she said was, “Why wasn’t it…I don’t know,…Ann Curry, for example.”

I barked, “Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Whoa.  Whoa.”

I like Ann Curry.

I said, “Why didn’t you say someone like Rush Limbaugh?  Or Ann Coulter?”

But her point was that those were such obvious choices and she was trying to name someone she didn’t wish death upon, but simply someone whose death would not have saddened her quite so much.   I offered up Katie Couric in lieu of Ann Curry.  No one is watching CBS evening news.  It might be a week before anyone even noticed.

1. I did a double take when I saw Fresh Express today. She decided that frosted, pale green eyeshadow was the way to go. And go large. It was…jarring. I’d say it brought out her eyes but really, it just brought out her eyelids.

2. Instigator is inundated at work. Today, she walked into my office, I glanced up and the moment I saw her eyes, I said, “You’re on the edge.” I described her as standing on a pair of train tracks debating if she’d rather hurl herself in front of the train…or push other people in front of it. She said, “That’s pretty accurate.”

3. I’m coining “listyle.” It’s List + Style. And that’s how I roll, baby.  And SnarkyRunner is awesome.

4. Little Filthy had not seen Boss in quite a while but she came by for dinner last night. I let him out the door as she came down the hall so he could run down to greet her. He was so excited, he ran up and down the hallway until he literally made himself sick. You could practically hear him screaming, “Moommmmmyyy!” He got inside the loft and proceeded to open his mouth and make that *kkaakkk!* sound. You’ll see her again soon, little man.

5. I saw Plush on Friday night - the first time since my return. I think I had a dumb grin on my face much of the night.

6. Speaking of that night, The Ballerina may get a new nickname: Whiskey Dad. This is the dad who turns downright mean after a few drinks. The scene the next morning is the kids at the breakfast table, silent as mice, as Whiskey Dad makes eggs and acts like everything is normal. Meanwhile, the kids are scared to move. So, anyway - a friend was going to meet us out later that night and didn’t make it and The Ballerina let said friend know exactly how unacceptable that was through a series of drunken (and completely hilarious) voice mail messages. If only I could have recorded them to play here for your odd mixture of pleasure and cringing.

7. I have never had surgery. Is it scary?

8. While brushing my teeth a few days ago, I had an odd thought: What would I do if all the toothpaste sold out at stores? Let me explain my train of thought. My travel size toothpaste ran out while I was in Rome. I went into a store and bought some more toothpaste: Pasta del Capitano. That means The Captain’s Pasta, right? Or paste? What the hell - I clearly don’t understand Italian. Anyway - they also had Colgate. I wondered what would happen if all the Colgate in the world were bought and how much that would help the economy, both in the country in which it was sold and the U.S. Company maker. Then I wondered what would happen if all the toothpaste sold out at stores. I knew I’d be okay because I’m a CostCo addict and I’ve got no less than five full tubes. Then I wondered if I’d share it and realized that yes, I would.

What a complete waste of mental energy.

After weeks of cajoling, Instigator agreed to go a guest entry.  Enjoy! -R

* * * * * * * * *   By Instigator * * * * * * * * *

I believe the genesis of almost every great friendship can be traced back to a single moment.  A pinpoint in time when you heard the ‘ding ding ding’ in your head and realized you, and your theretofore acquaintance, were going to become great friends.  So there was this new kid at work, and after a few weeks of a welcome lunch here, a watercooler chat there, I was somewhat intrigued but not certain whether this Randomesq was true work friend material.  When we were both invited to a wedding by the office know it all (Iknow!), I looked at it as a possible opportunity to get to know RE better.  Plus, my main motivation was I wanted to meet Boss.  But first I needed to find out if RE was in, so I commenced to ichat.

Me: Hey, so did “I Know” invite you to her wedding?

RE: Yeah, I did get the invitation the other day.

Me: So, uh, have to decided, are you and Boss going??

<pause>

RE: To tell you the truth, we don’t really like weddings. We are funny that way.  So I don’t think we are going to go. You?

<pause>

Me: I don’t think I’m going either. Honestly I thought it was weird she invited me.

RE: I thought it was a little weird too.

Me: Because we’re not friends.  I’ve never even had lunch with her.  Why would she want me to go to her wedding? I wouldn’t invite her to my wedding.

RE:  I thought the exact same thing.  Doesn’t she have any real friends?

Everyone is free to plan the wedding they have always dreamed of.  But personally, I would have never thought of inviting a bunch of miscellaneous coworkers that I had never so much as had coffee with to witness my marriage.  And in that moment, when I knew RE was thinking the very same thing, I believe we both realized we would be fast friends.   In hindsight, I wish we had gone.  We missed the rare opportunity to see Fresh Express in her more formal attire.  She too was invited, and attended with her sister as her date.  One can only imagine the wealth of strangeness that we would have witnessed.   As a wedding gift, Fresh Express told me she purchased a salad spinner.  Is that too perfect or what??

1. I did not have lunch with Instigator today. This is because she is on a task-force of sorts to handle deals worth a lot of scratch. Suspiciously sounding like an honor, it is actually more of a burden which we refer to as a “big fuckin’ deal” - much like one might say “who the fuck cares.” We have an understanding. If either of us is busy and the other walks into our office, we simply give that look that says, “Get out” and the other doesn’t take it personally. Today was my day to not take it personally because Instigator was up to her neck in some big fuckin’ deal. Bah!

2. My sister sometimes says things that strike me as ridiculous. She was watching me change my niece’s diaper to make sure I was doing it right. I sprinkled some powder and my sister said, “You’re salt and peppering the baby.” Is it just me or does that strike anyone else as offensively funny in a way? Then, there was the time she said she would show her children the movie Mystic River as a cautionary tale against running away by telling them, “That’s what happens to kids who run away.” The other day, she was talking about my niece and potty training and said something like, “Getting her off of diapers is like pulling her from a line of coke.” Dude. That’s just wrong.

3. I took a sleep-aid 90 minutes ago. This is because I am trying to go to bed earlier to reset my clock before I head overseas. I typically go to bed around 1 in the morning. Bad. It is now 10 p.m. and I am still wide awake. Dumb pills. Maybe I didn’t wash them down with enough whiskey chaser.

4. I have not yet told Little Filthy that he will be staying at Chez Parents while I am gone. He…has a bit of a reputation staying with them. Sort of like a rock star at a hotel. There was the time he baked a potato on my mother’s expensive oriental rug - which my pregnant sister discovered. With her foot. Or the time he ate my father’s ear plugs…which I discovered when he returned home and promptly pooped them out…all told in a nice little picture story here.

5. I, stupidly, taught Little Filthy how to lick on command. I say, “Kiss. Do it!” in my certified broken, third half-ass language and he will run up and give my cheek a lick, after which he is rewarded with a small treat. Unfortunately, Little Filthy does not associate his obeying the command with a treat so much as the actual licking. And so if he decides he wants a treat, he’ll just lick the shit out of me. *sigh*

Instigator and I were able to enjoy the warm weather with a nice lunch outside. Later that afternoon, she came into my office and sat down in a chair opposite my desk. I looked up. She leaned over and whispered, “Guess what I just saw on her desk?” Clearly, she meant Fresh Express. I grinned. She said, “I walked over there and she has an exercise DVD on her desk!” I laughed. She said, “By the New York Ballet Company!” I laughed again.

She continued, “So, I figured, I’m going tell her that you like ballerinas, too!”

I yelled, “HEY! Oy! NO!” Instigator cackled, clearly pleased with herself.

See, this is the thing. What you don’t want - ever - is for Fresh Express to form a connection with you. Because she will take that small thing and turn it into something …uncomfortable. Like the time she was convinced that Boss and I loved fish. Or playing tennis. Or bike riding. Or when she found out that I like gadgets and she began to cut newspaper articles out for me from the newspapers at the Chicago Public Library’s Reference Section. She once gave me an article on Jet Bloat. I never figured that one out. Then, there was that one time she washed her socks in a coffee pot. She also dips her toothbrush into her a toothpaste filled contact lens case. Speaking of contacts, she wears just one corrective lens. And it is tinted. Then there were the plastic baggies on her feet. Anyway, you get my point. It’s all just bad news. And Instigator was poised to bring it all down upon me.

But there’s really nothing I can do. See, Instigator once interviewed with the CIA. She’s got some covert techniques. I’m pretty sure I might return to my office to find newspaper clippings fresh from the library about the Joffrey.

*sigh*