Your Face (kandigurl) wrote,
Your Face
kandigurl

Accomplishments!

Things I have accomplished in the past few days:

1. Went to the dentist, which knocked yet another thing off my list!

2. Emptied out my storage shed completely, which means I no longer have to pay the $50/month fee for it. However, I now have a house full of stuff to put away. That can wait until after vacation. *See below for an exciting story regarding this item!*

3. Visited wickedsin for the last time in who knows how long, because she's moving to another friggen' state the day I'm back from vacation. *sad*

4. Renewed my driver's license.

5. Mailed off my vehicle registration renewal.

All in all, I feel very accomplished!

*EXCITING STORY*

So, I was lugging crap from my car to my apartment, when a box containing a bunch of books broke*, spilling books all over the pavement. I uttered some swears and set about picking them up, when a dude approached me. "Hey, can I help you with that?" he asked.

Normally, when I'm doing intensive manual labor, despite my extreme laziness, I don't usually like help. It doesn't make sense to me, either. But I said "Sure," because I'm also bad at being rude to strangers. I gathered the books up and found that I could easily carry them all myself, so I asked homedude to stack his books on top of mine. He shrugged and said, "I can help you carry them to your apartment." I thought that was a little unnecessary, but I was hot and miserable and almost done with the lugging, so I said whatever.

He saw the piles of stuff in my apartment, asked if I'd just moved in, I said no, and turned to go back out and get the rest of my crap. "Do you smoke pot?" homedude, who had since introduced himself as Paul, asked.

"Uh, no." It's a question I get a lot, but I never get used to it. I guess I look like a pot smoker. It always strikes me as odd how casually people will just ask. What if I was an undercover cop?

"Well, do you want to hang out?"

"No, I've got something going on tonight." (See Item #3 above)

"Well, if you want to hang out, just come on over," he said.

I gave a non-committal "Okay," wanting this dude to just leave me alone, this is precisely the reason I hate meeting new people.

As he was walking off, he turned and said, "It'd have to just be this one night, though, you know, keep it discreet."

I can't imagine what my face looked like at that moment, as I was in a place somewhere between laughter and horror. I think I said something like, "A-ha," and left it at that. I called Brandy over to hang out with me while I finished up the lugging, because I felt nervous about the whole thing, and she told me the same guy had done something similar to her, leaving his phone number on her door. We're thinking of letting the apartment managers know.




*This is called "alliteration", kids!
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