Sometimes I'm an idiot
I went to the Escape last night to chill, read,and edit a chapter of a novel that isn't written and won't go into the novel once it's written if it is ever in fact written.
They had an open mic, and it's in the backroom so it didn't bother me at all since I was in what I call their Office Room. But they must have had a break every so often, and when they did, there was this guy who would be near the counter where you order and he'd, in his exceptionally loud voice, repeat "Shaken, not stirred," in a horrible fucking English accent. He'd say this over and over and over. It was driving me nuts. I couldn't understand how anyone he was with could want to do anything but slap him. Why didn't they slap him? "Shaken, not stirred." Over and over.
Eventually he'd go away and the caffeine enhanced annoyance would fade away.
When I got to my car, I reached into my pocket for my keys and felt something else in my pocket. Earbuds and my iPod. I didn't have to listen to "Shaken, not stirred" on repeat 1 at all.
They had an open mic, and it's in the backroom so it didn't bother me at all since I was in what I call their Office Room. But they must have had a break every so often, and when they did, there was this guy who would be near the counter where you order and he'd, in his exceptionally loud voice, repeat "Shaken, not stirred," in a horrible fucking English accent. He'd say this over and over and over. It was driving me nuts. I couldn't understand how anyone he was with could want to do anything but slap him. Why didn't they slap him? "Shaken, not stirred." Over and over.
Eventually he'd go away and the caffeine enhanced annoyance would fade away.
When I got to my car, I reached into my pocket for my keys and felt something else in my pocket. Earbuds and my iPod. I didn't have to listen to "Shaken, not stirred" on repeat 1 at all.