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| movies, up, black comedy, 1977 in sports, insomniac, intellectual, 1998, artisan entertainment, confession, commentary, relationship, skins, sales, dark comedy, | I'd pour him a cup of coffee (on the mornings that 1976 he hadn't already had three cups before leaving the house), and he would tell me all the nightmares 1976 of being a 30-something and single "nice" guy with friends constantly subjecting him to crazed blind dates. He was friendly, yet strictly observed the unsaid five-foot berth policy as he performed the perfunctories, even calling out "Don't let me scare ya..." as he 1976 entered the room that he knew I was in. It was comfortable. Which says a lot, because when home alone, a woman is always going to feel a moment of apprehension as she allows some strange guy to enter the sanctity of her personal space. So... Imagine my disappointment when some other guy called to set up my service appt a few months ago. He set it up for 3pm...with my voice mail. I showed at 3:15, annoyed, explained that three is the exact time my daughter is to be picked up from school, and requested that I be allowed to retain the 8am slot...any |
Best Mature Paysites
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| I don't like appointments. They suck. Committing me to be somewhere at a specific time on a specific date, knowing that when up that date actually arises, my good fortune will lavish upon me some inconsolable conflict... No thanks. Of course I have my fair share of when and wheres, but...I avoid them when at all possible. For example, for the last four years, I have insisted that my monthly pesticide service be an 8am deal. See, I will still forget the up date of the appointment, but it won't matter, because at 8am I am usually only on my second cup of coffee, watching Fox News (even though I'm sick of it), and procrastinating the chore of bodily maintenance. Ergo...home to facilitate bug man entry. Gomer Pile was my bug man for a long while. So long, in fact, that I actually began to remember that I had an 8am appt with him on every third Thursday. Of course that wasn't his name, but the boy was such an intriguing blend of Gomer and Forest, that during his reign, the sociologist in me actually forgot to be inconvenienced by the extra 30 minutes I had to wait before hopping in the shower. |
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