Strippers on a train
I think my interview went well. Their questions about public interaction had me referring back to my Home Despot days; hopefully that won't work against me. They liked my sense of humour. And surprise, surprise: one of my interviewers and I have a common relative. Six degrees of separation don't exist in Windsor; it's rare to have more than two.
The trip home was entertaining, to say the least. It started when I was standing outside my building waiting for my cab. I heard jet engines overhead and looked up to see a quartet of A-10 Warthogs doing a flyover for the Detroit Tigers' opening day. Certainly came as a surprise. My first thought was "What are they doing in Canadian airspace?" It wasn't until I was in the cab and saw the Goodyear blimp over downtown that I remembered what day it was. The Blue Jays were in Cleveland for the Indians' opening day--and beat the record for longest opening day game by innings with a sixteen-inning win. It was exhausting just to watch them.
Things on the train were equally entertaining, at least for the first stretch of the journey. Two college girls were in the row in front of me on the other side of the aisle. Soon after departure they started talking about their part-time jobs--at the strip club downtown. One of them mentioned making a thousand dollars from a single overnight shift, prompting me to wonder whether I was in the right business.
Of course, beauty does not necessary equal brains. Their conversation about vacationing in Florida is evidence of this:
Blonde stripper: What's the party city in Florida?
Redhead stripper: Miami's one.
BS*: Miami isn't in Florida.
*How appropriate an acronym!
RS: Yes it is.
BS: No it isn't. Isn't it a state? Miami State?
RS: I'm pretty sure it's a city. I'll ask others. (She looks around and makes eye contact with me.)
Me: It's a city in Florida.
The blonde was truly shocked that Miami was in Florida. And they're attending University of Windsor when not occupying their time as professional exhibitionists. Yeah.
The trip home was entertaining, to say the least. It started when I was standing outside my building waiting for my cab. I heard jet engines overhead and looked up to see a quartet of A-10 Warthogs doing a flyover for the Detroit Tigers' opening day. Certainly came as a surprise. My first thought was "What are they doing in Canadian airspace?" It wasn't until I was in the cab and saw the Goodyear blimp over downtown that I remembered what day it was. The Blue Jays were in Cleveland for the Indians' opening day--and beat the record for longest opening day game by innings with a sixteen-inning win. It was exhausting just to watch them.
Things on the train were equally entertaining, at least for the first stretch of the journey. Two college girls were in the row in front of me on the other side of the aisle. Soon after departure they started talking about their part-time jobs--at the strip club downtown. One of them mentioned making a thousand dollars from a single overnight shift, prompting me to wonder whether I was in the right business.
Of course, beauty does not necessary equal brains. Their conversation about vacationing in Florida is evidence of this:
Blonde stripper: What's the party city in Florida?
Redhead stripper: Miami's one.
BS*: Miami isn't in Florida.
*How appropriate an acronym!
RS: Yes it is.
BS: No it isn't. Isn't it a state? Miami State?
RS: I'm pretty sure it's a city. I'll ask others. (She looks around and makes eye contact with me.)
Me: It's a city in Florida.
The blonde was truly shocked that Miami was in Florida. And they're attending University of Windsor when not occupying their time as professional exhibitionists. Yeah.