January 11, 2003
respect ma authoritay

In contrast to the other day, it was around 40 degrees and spitting rain most of the time today. Mmmm, weather.

Just got back from a little pseudo-security gig at the roller derby. Lori "The Wrench" asked some of us to provide additional bodies at this pre-season exhibition match between the Holy Rollers and the Rhinestone Cowgirls. Basically, we just stood inside the danger tape, made sure no derby girls smacked into the pillars, and kept degenerates from the crowd off the track. Every once in a while, someone would wipe out, and we press the tape back around the track border, or retrieve a fallen trinket for one of the chicks. Pretty light work, as volunteer work goes, and it was fun to be "on the inside" for a minute. I didn't get a cool red BGGW security t-shirt this time (I had my Jim Rose Circus Security shirt on under my Airport Security/Slacker work shirt, though, so that's got to count for something), but The Wrench said I've got one coming, so, cool. It was a good match, too, and they introduced the new team, The Hustlers, who will be skating at the season opener, I think. Big fun.

I've been catching an hour or two of sleep here and there, and I'm pretty twired and cranky. Read a little, work in Flash a little, sleep a little, grab a snack, repeat. Little distorienting. That, and I think standing around inside a smoky music hall type place for three hours or so is giving me minor a minor nicotene fit, which doesn't help with the sleepiness or the crankiness.

Speaking of cranky, I came about two inches and two seconds from elbowing some guy in the head in the locker room this morning. Some ass in sales, with a cellphone, spiky blond hair and a hip pair of frames, counseling his friend on the other end what to do about his girlfriend, who apparently caught him watching porn or something. "Well, dude, you might want to mention to her that if she gave it up a little more often, you wouldn't be having this conversation." "Don't sweat it, dude. She's got bad skin." "Hey, dude, you going to Chili's tonight? Cool, dude! I'll see you there!" All the while oblivious to both my glare and that of the older gentleman standing on the other side of him in a towel, waiting for him to get the hell out of his way. I swear we should have just smashed his phone and shoved his scrawny ass in the locker. I bet he was the one with the BMW parked across two spaces in the parking lot, too. Or maybe he was the big black SUV crammed into a spot marked "Compact Only", with the "George W. Bush For President" sticker.

I tell you, I like that gym and all, but the morning clientele is making me want to keep a claw hammer in the car. Or maybe it was the really obnoxious spin class that was blasting that shitty U2 album so loud I couldn't hear my LotR disc. Fuckers.

Okay, now for dessert, and maybe some sleeps.

(January 11, 2003 08:38 PM)
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