It is becoming so cold that sometimes it feels like my organs might freeze. Also, Seattle had its first snow of the season the other day! Eager to walk amidst the snowflakes on my way to work, I dressed myself in a warm fleece. When I stepped outside, my hopes of big, fluffy flakes melted into the ground along with the wet clumps of rain. Who called that stuff snow? Damn them. Fake snow. It was definitely not the kind of snow that you enjoy watching fall and try to capture in your mouth and can make snowmen with. Instead, it was just cold wetness with no purpose other than to wash the urine out of the alleys.
When I finally got to work, soaked by the "snow," I realized that many people took the "snow" pretty seriously and were thrown quite off balance by it:
A woman scurried in, closed her umbrella, swiped her bangs to the side and fretfully asked, "Are any of the classes cancelled tonight?"
"Umm... Not to my knowledge."
"Oh, well, I just wasn't sure because of that bazarre weather out there! Thanks!" she replies, relieved, but still looking muddled.
Another woman with little beady eyes, annoyingly bright, blond hair, wearing impractical, high-heeled, pointy-toed shoes asked, "Oh, are you guys closed?"
My initial mental response was, "Yeah, and that's why we're all here working! So, come on in!"
But instead, I responded, "Nope, we're open."
Quite relieved, she responded, "Oh, ok good. I just wasn't sure because of the craaazy weather and all."
"Oh, yeah, all that snow out there!" And right after she signed in, I gave her an exaggerated, sympathetic look, and said, "Oh, wait, NOW we're closed. Mmm, yeaaaah, sorrrry. The weather."
-The Epicenter is a great viewing site for frantic business people.
Some of them even like to nickname me...
A cockie skeez who visits the gym, probably to tone his body "for the laaaadies," came in one day and said to me, "Hey you, what're you doin' tonight?"
"Well, I'm not sure yet... It IS the weekend, so I'm sure something."
"Oh, yeah? You like to DRINK? You like to PARTY? You like to GET IT ON?"
"Umm... Right. Here's your towel!" I responded, ignoring his remarks.
"Haha. You're a wild one aren't you? You like to get dirty? I bet you like tequila."
I forced a half-smile as he went into the locker room.
On his way out, he pointed to me and said, "TD. Yeah, that's you."
Again, he was out of sight.
When he came back from working out, I had gained the courage to ask him, "What does TD stand for?"
"Come on girl, you a TABLE DANCER! I can see it in ya."
FYI: I am not a "table dancer" and I have no idea where this guy came up with this stuff about me.
