You can't have her, you want to but she won't let you
~*~
22. Jack: A Maltese Falcon with a broken wing
Ironically, she looked more broken outside the hospital room than she did lying in that sterile bed. Hunched over her shot glass with her arm still in the sling, she looked like something out of a Raymond Chandler novel.
Which, I guess, she was. As I was packing up my office I had asked Peter about the “detective” comment her mother made, and he told me that Jon hired Samantha and her friends to investigate the affair. It turns out that they were pretty good at what they did, and had built up a reputation for professionalism and secrecy.
I watched her as I made my way to the bar, and briefly wondered whether Sam’s middle name was Spade. If it was, she had fully incorporated the Bogart persona into herself. She emanated cynicism and heartache and a sense of being done with everything and everybody.
She was… broken.
~*~
Pirates was frickin' amazing. It was definitely worth it. And when I say "worth it," I'm not just talking about the ten bucks for the ticket and twenty for the popcorn. I mean:
-Essentials for Pirate Costume (1 belt, gold earrings, scarf, and funky shirt): $20
-Gas to Springfield, MA and back: $30
-Movie ticket, popcorn, soda, sugar pretzel: $25
-Seeing the midnight premiere of Pirates 2 with friends dressed as a pirate: Priceless.
Too bad I don't actually have a Mastercard, because I think I just found the perfect new ad campaign for them.
Heard back from higher-ups about the floor lead position I posted for. Apparently, I'm not good enough to be a floor lead. Now I'm pissed: I've been there four years, I've only called out of work twice, and once was for pink-eye (the other was for "hungover in New Hampshire three hours away," which in my book is legitimate). I've worked through sprained ankles, and sprained necks (or, will, after tomorrow). And not only am I not good enough to be offered a regular position, but now I'm not good enough to even interview for a regular position?
Ahem.
Suck it, bitches.
That felt... kinda good.
So I'm polishing up my resume and praying to unnamed deities. I gotta get out of there while the getting's good.
Maybe I can ask Davy Jones for a new career when Sarah's asking him to resurrect her car...
Ugh... I have to be at work at 7:45 tomorrow morning. That should be illegal. And so, I leave you with this:
"Because right now, this is a job. If I advance any higher, this would be my career. And if this were my career, I'd have to throw myself in front of a train." -- Jim, The Office (US)
ETA: Where the hell is my "bitchy" icon?!
22. Jack: A Maltese Falcon with a broken wing
Ironically, she looked more broken outside the hospital room than she did lying in that sterile bed. Hunched over her shot glass with her arm still in the sling, she looked like something out of a Raymond Chandler novel.
Which, I guess, she was. As I was packing up my office I had asked Peter about the “detective” comment her mother made, and he told me that Jon hired Samantha and her friends to investigate the affair. It turns out that they were pretty good at what they did, and had built up a reputation for professionalism and secrecy.
I watched her as I made my way to the bar, and briefly wondered whether Sam’s middle name was Spade. If it was, she had fully incorporated the Bogart persona into herself. She emanated cynicism and heartache and a sense of being done with everything and everybody.
She was… broken.
~*~
Pirates was frickin' amazing. It was definitely worth it. And when I say "worth it," I'm not just talking about the ten bucks for the ticket and twenty for the popcorn. I mean:
-Essentials for Pirate Costume (1 belt, gold earrings, scarf, and funky shirt): $20
-Gas to Springfield, MA and back: $30
-Movie ticket, popcorn, soda, sugar pretzel: $25
-Seeing the midnight premiere of Pirates 2 with friends dressed as a pirate: Priceless.
Too bad I don't actually have a Mastercard, because I think I just found the perfect new ad campaign for them.
Heard back from higher-ups about the floor lead position I posted for. Apparently, I'm not good enough to be a floor lead. Now I'm pissed: I've been there four years, I've only called out of work twice, and once was for pink-eye (the other was for "hungover in New Hampshire three hours away," which in my book is legitimate). I've worked through sprained ankles, and sprained necks (or, will, after tomorrow). And not only am I not good enough to be offered a regular position, but now I'm not good enough to even interview for a regular position?
Ahem.
Suck it, bitches.
That felt... kinda good.
So I'm polishing up my resume and praying to unnamed deities. I gotta get out of there while the getting's good.
Maybe I can ask Davy Jones for a new career when Sarah's asking him to resurrect her car...
Ugh... I have to be at work at 7:45 tomorrow morning. That should be illegal. And so, I leave you with this:
"Because right now, this is a job. If I advance any higher, this would be my career. And if this were my career, I'd have to throw myself in front of a train." -- Jim, The Office (US)
ETA: Where the hell is my "bitchy" icon?!