(no subject)
Tonight was definitely the shittiest night I've worked thus far. A tangled combination of PMS and some real genuine dumbfucks with a dash of technical difficulty just really made things hard to handle. So I'll talk about Roy Moore instead.
Roy Moore deserves mention in my journal because he is the first elderly man who knows how to live. And literally, I took a few moments tonight while working to think about this. He comes in at least 3 days a week, but most times more, to drop off film. He has a 'free film for life' camera, so he always gets one hour processing so we'll refill his camera for free. I swear this man is spending away his retirement money on pictures, but that's besides the point. He always comes in with some story to tell about one of his ladies or a new outfit he found or riding his bike in a parade. Each day, his outfit screams to be noticed a little louder. When I first met him, he had on a complete vintage cowboy suit, complete with his pants tucked into his boots and a hat to top it all off. The second time, he was wearing black bondage pants with a button up collared yellow dress shirt. [and I must remind that he had all the chains connected to the pants, haha.] Tonight's outfit took the cake, though -- First of all, he had high tops on. And a tie dyed shirt with red white and blue suspenders and a pyramid patterned belt. His image can not be recreated, as most people simply don't have the balls to go through with it. His pictures always show him surrounded by smiling people, and it just makes me think that perhaps this eccentric Roy Moore brings a small bit of joy to hundreds of people outside myself on a day to day basis. It's so refreshing to see such life and passion in a person of that age. I hope to create such a legacy myself when I hit 80.
Thus concludes my honourable mention of Roy Moore.
After work, I began the drive home. I called Chris to ask about his drive and we ended up getting a good hour conversation in. And tonight I learned of Chris' more disturbed side, as somehow he managed to discuss living in a house with pictures of dead people muraled onto the wall, period eggs being cooked and eaten, me mothering [and having wild sex with?] his male child -- which he insists on calling Brandon, and ignoring the weiner dog. Above all though, this was by far the most I've ever laughed with him and in some perverse sense, I really loved talking about these things -- being able to sit back and not take things so damn seriously. Tonight would have been the perfect night for a dumb preteen sleepover with him, as I could totally see us being really COOL and throwing pillows at eachother and pulling the whole "Okay, let's go to sleep -- 5 minutes later talking until all hours of the morning" things. I think I make him happy too. I can definitely say his laugh is still distinctly clear in my mind, and I want nothing more right now than to hear that laugh regularly. Oh that boy and what I'd do to be his girl.
But his phone died. And mine was tired.
After showering, I feel a wee bit better, but there's still room for impovement. I really think sleep will give me a well needed ending to this day, and that closure will assist in opening tomorrow for me. Here's to the night.
That seed is no longer mine,
Charlot
Roy Moore deserves mention in my journal because he is the first elderly man who knows how to live. And literally, I took a few moments tonight while working to think about this. He comes in at least 3 days a week, but most times more, to drop off film. He has a 'free film for life' camera, so he always gets one hour processing so we'll refill his camera for free. I swear this man is spending away his retirement money on pictures, but that's besides the point. He always comes in with some story to tell about one of his ladies or a new outfit he found or riding his bike in a parade. Each day, his outfit screams to be noticed a little louder. When I first met him, he had on a complete vintage cowboy suit, complete with his pants tucked into his boots and a hat to top it all off. The second time, he was wearing black bondage pants with a button up collared yellow dress shirt. [and I must remind that he had all the chains connected to the pants, haha.] Tonight's outfit took the cake, though -- First of all, he had high tops on. And a tie dyed shirt with red white and blue suspenders and a pyramid patterned belt. His image can not be recreated, as most people simply don't have the balls to go through with it. His pictures always show him surrounded by smiling people, and it just makes me think that perhaps this eccentric Roy Moore brings a small bit of joy to hundreds of people outside myself on a day to day basis. It's so refreshing to see such life and passion in a person of that age. I hope to create such a legacy myself when I hit 80.
Thus concludes my honourable mention of Roy Moore.
After work, I began the drive home. I called Chris to ask about his drive and we ended up getting a good hour conversation in. And tonight I learned of Chris' more disturbed side, as somehow he managed to discuss living in a house with pictures of dead people muraled onto the wall, period eggs being cooked and eaten, me mothering [and having wild sex with?] his male child -- which he insists on calling Brandon, and ignoring the weiner dog. Above all though, this was by far the most I've ever laughed with him and in some perverse sense, I really loved talking about these things -- being able to sit back and not take things so damn seriously. Tonight would have been the perfect night for a dumb preteen sleepover with him, as I could totally see us being really COOL and throwing pillows at eachother and pulling the whole "Okay, let's go to sleep -- 5 minutes later talking until all hours of the morning" things. I think I make him happy too. I can definitely say his laugh is still distinctly clear in my mind, and I want nothing more right now than to hear that laugh regularly. Oh that boy and what I'd do to be his girl.
But his phone died. And mine was tired.
After showering, I feel a wee bit better, but there's still room for impovement. I really think sleep will give me a well needed ending to this day, and that closure will assist in opening tomorrow for me. Here's to the night.
That seed is no longer mine,
Charlot