My white flag is raised

Okay, DC, you got me. You got me good yesterday. In fact, I haven’t been punked this good in years. Let me splain youse…

I finally got a call back from the temp agency for a 1 day gig. Yes, 1 day, that pays. Not well, but its money. So, my unemployed ass rolled to this gig in Arlington and I was supposed to be there at 10 am. I chose to drive in, as I had plans in the evening and the bus schedule was not conducive to my social game plan. Well, I left the house at 8:30 and rolled to the metro closest to me. This particular metro has 2 parking garages and an entire stadium parking lot, so I didn’t think anything of it. I get there and the entire fucking thing is full. Great! Spent 20 minutes looking for a spot. Decided that it was a fruitless venture, so I jumped on 66. at this point, I knew I was fucked from the get go. Thank the baby jesus that I had gps on my phone or I’d be totally SOL. It took me about an hour to go 20 miles. Get to the job and have to pay out 1 hour’s worth of pay to park. Great, thanks, I see how this is going to be.

Worked for a company I have never heard of, so I decided to pretend it was summer camp, just in the winter. I know, it doesn’t make sense, but neither did the Russian broad telling me what to do.–Note to self, lean Russian and take over the world–So, my duties included, stocking general office supplies. Stocking the coffee pods. Now, it is important to note, that these people are addicted to their coffee; I swear I saw some rail-thin chick shooting up the mocha espresso in the copy room. Anyways, then I put mail, in a folder, with the addressee’s name on it. Yes, I was used to my full potential today. But wait, it gets better! So, in the afternoon, it was like arts and crafts time. Yes, a guy who can save/preserve your life was making…….. wait for it……. Fucking snow flakes from paper:

Look mom, I am making snow flakes!

Seriously, I put in the head phones and made snow flakes. Take that China, I was doing 3rd rate labor at 1st rate pay. USA! USA! USA! Okay, so it was fucking lame and the guys in the office were laughing, until I told them why I was there and what I was waiting on. They soon shut up. Bitches.

So, bailed out and rolled downtown for dinner. Well, on my way some asshat in a Lexus decided to take me head-on, on a narrow portion of L Street, so I swerved slightly and ate the protruding lug nuts of a moving truck, thus, shredding the right side of the Lincoln. Imagine the truck is this guy:

This was how I imagined the truck lug nuts to be

And my car as this:

Damage done after truck lug nuts

I am estimating about $2,500 worth of damage. NOT. FUCKING. COOL! At this point, I had already had a fucking weird day, so my car getting wrecked, seemed, well, trite. Seriously, I was either going to laugh or cry, and as we all know real men down cry unless they are watching Rudy or getting kicked in the nads. Time to play the game of “how good is your insurance?” So, I sucked it up and rolled to dinner. Poor girl, I felt like a neurotic mess by the time I got there and don’t remember too much of what I said, but I am sure it was uncomfortable.

Anyways, I was welcomed with open arms and had an amazing meal of Jalapeno Poppers, Greek Salad, Vegetarian Squash Lasagne, Baked Apple thing with cinnamon goodness all over it. So, basically, my ass was spoiled! Spoiled fucking rotten and yes, yes you should be hating on me right now, cause it was awesome. It was flat-out amazing and a couple glasses of wine later, all my worries were gone. Moral of this story? A good meal with good company, can wipe clean an entire day of absolute fucking non-sense. I don’t think she realized how good the evening made me feel. Seriously though, I went from stabby to sappy in one quick bite.

So, on the way home, I discovered that Virginia sells 40 ozers!  Yes, I couldn’t resist. So, DC, you may have won this round, but I am not down just yet. I will be back and I will own you!

Salud!

I just am not a patient person

Lets discuss my dating life for a moment. I have been having a good run for a while now and you may remember when I decided to amp it up a bit by using dating websites. I have met some wonderful women and some total bums on my way through this little journey in single town.

Though, all these experiences and time put in, I have reaffirmed that I am not a patient person… let me splain:

Online dating takes a lot of time and energy. Yes, I know what you are thinking, “JP, why are you concerned with time, you have no job?” Great point! The reason is sometimes the nuances in human speech is not picked up via email or text. It takes more time and effort than I am willing to put in, to come across my charming self. Let’s face it, I can come across kind of, well, weird and creepy at times due to my strange references. Take the “human meat” reference, (Sunny fan’s should click that) when I told a woman that we should hit the morgue with a hot plate, referring to where we should go to dinner, she didn’t think it was funny.

Then there was this other girl who kind of got me, but she may have been a little too much (okay I may have been drinking when I wrote this). Here is an excerpt from an email exchange in regards to a photo montage on her profile:

JP- I really like the way you assembled your photos; very entertaining. I thought, “wow, she’s right because if one was to fight crime, a drink would definitely be in order.” By the way, who did win the epic “mortal combat” fight?Keep your pimp hand strong, JP
Girl- It’s true. If you ever get into the crime fighting business, drinks are a key to success. They allow the crime fighter to give the criminal a head start on their dastardly deeds or attempted escapes. The head start is another key because every successful crime fighter must make a dramatic entrance where all hope seems gone. Chuck Norris won the mortal combat fight. Chuck Norris is what I named my left leg. My pimp hand is named Silver Tongue A. Shizzle. When you’re as strong as me, the individual muscles and parts must be given their own identities.
JP- What would be the best drink to fight crime with? I mean tequila would certainly get things moving in the right direction, but I feel a scotch would be the optimum choice; eloquent and strong all rolled up in one. I like your dramatic entrance theory. It adds the element of both suspense and surprise. That it totally the way to go.I am not sure Chuck Norris can be your leg, because he is currently hanging out in my beard, popping out and punching unsuspecting individuals. I do however respect any woman with a strong pimp hand, but Tongue A. Shizzle sounds very wrong on so many levels. Say it out loud and you will see what I mean.
Girl- Pimp hands have to have sleazy sounding names. It’s the law. And I uphold the law. Beards holding individuals who punch unsuspecting individuals seems like it might be bordering on non-lawful activities. You better get control over your beard lest it become subject to my leg (i.e., the real CN) in my crime fighting engagements.
JP- Well, if it’s the law I need to work on a name for mine. Oh, you don’t control the beard! The beard has its own law. Kind of like Jules Winnfield (JW). He will quote you some Ezekiel 25:17 while he sorts you out. So, I will allow you CN and put him up against JW at any time, as he is “the tyranny of evil men”… now that i think about it, I may have to shave for an upcoming interview. Damn. When you are not crime fighting and getting into mortal combats, what kind of things do you like to do? Are there any good hang out spots to visit?
Girl- There are a lot of places to have beer and talk. Unfortunately, I often don’t know where I have wound up. I know I’ve been to at least a couple of the bars you mentioned, but I couldn’t tell you anything about them. I now realize I am a sheep when it comes to bars. This lowers my cool factor by a few points. Now I’m going to have to go do something to make up those points, like steal a pair of aviators from the local trendy shop. You’re beard’s criminal nature is trying to reincarnate itself into me. Unappreciated.
JP- Viva la goatee! (like viva la raza, just more goat like) So, you wander around aimlessly throughout DC, bouncing place to place? I think that raises you cool points at least +10. Also, if you steal a pair of aviators, you get double points if you swipe an Ed Hardy shirt with a skull on it. Because you can’t have a trendy hipster unless they wear a well-known tattoo artist’s clothing, sans personal tattoo’s. Oh, and a trucker hat…just tossing that out there. I see the beard is trying to manifest itself through you. Do you have a favorite place to hangout? What kind of things do you enjoy doing on the weekend?
Girl- I happen to have a shirt with a skull on it and a trucker hat – and I didn’t pay a dime for either item. How many points does that put me at? The school library is my favorite place to hang out. I enjoy reading big words and writing boring papers on the weekend. What about you?

So as you can see above, I lost interest around this point. Fun back and forth? Yes. Kind of a time killer to put out a one-sided anecdote and waiting for an equal or less than reply, not my speed. In fact, I probably would not have given this (time+investment= payoff) theory any thought, if a date the other night had not asked me, so how is (insert dating site) going for you. I went on to explain that I was bored with it and that I am better in person (TWSS).

I have decided to just leave the online dating to people with no social skills. My jokes, insights, and general conversation points, are not conducive to on-line interaction. I am and always have been, a personable individual. So, with that, I need to get out more and explore this wonderful city and stay away from the on-line creepers.

Oh, on another note: Being unemployed and trying to date, is fucking lame and I feel really bad about it. Nothing is worse than having to tell a woman, Umm, can we do something low-key? When what I really want to say is, I would really like to take you to Restaurant Eve… Yes, my ego and pride has taken a huge hit lately. It’s probably for the best though, to keep my ass in check.

So long and thanks for all the fish…

When have I ever been too qualified

This morning I heard the strangest thing I have ever heard: I am too qualified. Let me qualify this by saying, I am to qualified to answer phones. Lets think about this for a hot minute…. when have I ever been too qualified to do anything? Is there such a thing? I would think if you have a job to fill and someone with experience to fill can, why wouldn’t you take them. Oh, too much experience? Gotcha! I see how this is.

This is just a coup on my voice and you just don’t have the balls to say, sorry we are looking for someone with a phone-sex operator voice. I have a sexy voice! Think Barry White after a pack of smokes and a whiskey hangover. Hell, if you let me drink on the job, I can give you a decent Paul Hogan circa 1986 with a strong “G’day” and “How ya going”.

I get why I was passed over and how I am too qualified, but for fuck sakes! I am 2 days away from day labor over here. I was envious of the guys cutting the grass at my apt complex today. Maybe I should call them? I am just tired (I am more than sure my friends are tired of hearing me) of worrying about a temp job, while I wait for the hotness to come through. Why should a hard worker “dumb down” their resume?

Anyways, I am just mouf’n off. I am the one that put myself in this position and the only one that can pull up on it. I have tons of time and very little money, for now. Hell, maybe I should go hang out and volunteer at the fire department while I wait. Oh well, guess I will go to the gym and work on my glamour muscles.