on the lam

Ugh. The other day at work the sales rep from a company I purchase stuff from called and wanted to have a “meeting” with me. I hate having meetings with this guy. His job for the company is basically to go around to everyone who spends a certain amount of money with them, schmooze it up with that person, give them t-shirts and goodies, and make sure they continue to buy. I can’t stand the “meetings.” We’ll meet at my cube and go down to the cafe where he’ll buy me whatever I want: coffee, donuts, etc. Then we’ll sit and talk about the current “business climate,” something I know nothing about and care even less to speculate on. After that he’ll talk about what exotic places his job takes him too, where he golfed last, his family, maybe show me some pictures from his last dive expedition, and I sit there and pretend to laugh at the right spots, act surprised when warranted, serious on cue, etc. It’s absolutely terrible. Having to pretend I’m best buds with some dude and that I’m interested in his rambling. Just sell me stuff and drop the swag in the mail please.

So anyway, I hid. Yup, that’s right – I totally went into hiding to escape the mutual-masturbation that is meeting with this dude. Took my laptop, found a nice hidden corner of the building, and hid out for an hour working from the shadows. Do I feel guilty?, yeah a little bit – but I have a history of this kinda behavior so I’m pretty much used to it. I remember back in high school an old boss from the CPA place I once worked called me up. He told me they were moving into their own building and they needed some “manual labor” type help, would I be interested? I wasn’t working at the time and money sounded good – so I agreed. I showed up at the empty lot where the building was being framed at 7am on a hot and humid FL Saturday. My former boss rolled up and told me that he wanted me to take a sledge hammer and go around the entire property, breaking large rocks into smaller ones. Then I would get the wheelbarrow and pick them up so I could move them to a truck. I brought that hammer down on one rock; and then ran away through the woods, through a swamp, over a fence, and got the hell out of there. Oh yeah, I’m a bastard. Man, I hope he never sees this… he’s actually a pretty nice guy.

Tuesday night was chili night at Anthony’s. He makes this awesome chili, which is most famous for being crazy hot. I love hot food. I love having my mouth burn while I eat it, I love the spicy taste. The chili that he makes is notorious for turning away people who can’t handle hot stuff. Sharaun can barely stomach the “mild” batch (he has to make a “mild” and “hot” batch so the wimps can come too). Anyway, it was awesome – but it sure tore me up on Wednesday. Ugh. Super hot food is usually only good in one direction. I’m a hot food and hot sauce nut tho. I used to think that the hottest sauce in the world was Dave’s Insanity Sauce, that was until I had Da Bomb Ground Zero. One dipped toothpick point and you’re on your ass. Turns out I was wrong, as this stuff outdoes them all, and then some. Nearly 7000x as hot as Tabasco (~16mil Scoville Units), it will actually burn the skin on contact. Awesome.

I thought I was pretty good at grammar, but this quiz put me in my place. I got a 7/10, missing the I/me, lied/laid, and affect/effect ones. Stupid grammar, it’s the tricky ones that get me.

I guess that’s it. Pretty dumb one eh? I’ve been working on some little upgrades to the blog page… hoping to unveil them early next week. Until then… Dave out.

Also written on this day...

• home it is - 2008
• not cool eyebrows. not cool. - 2007
• what's with the ladder? - 2006