Work today was slow -- moving dishwashers, stoves, microwaves, peeing in a roomful of porn, cutting boxes and dividing trash from cardboard, cardboard from styrofoam. Five o'clock hits, off to find a cheap Sushi restaurant, then home to phone Joy at work.
Joy: Can you hold?
Me: Yes.
sound of phone clacking against counterspace
Joy (or so I think): Hello, how can I help you?
Me (Quoting a big sandwich from SATC): Eat me.
Dead silence.
Me: It's Matt.
Joy (or so I think): Matt who?
Me: . . . . . . . . Sorry, I really must have the wrong number.
Five minutes later I phone the store again. I ask in a terrible, obviously fake Texan accent if Joy's around.
Joy: Did you just call and say something to my MANAGER?
Me: heheheheh. . . . sorry! Can I pick you up? I have sushi?
Played a round of pool against Hoochie Loves Chachi, they won. I asked Joy if she was intimidated by their obvious popularity, and she said that yes, she was. I was, naturally, fearless.
Posted by matty-b at July 15, 2005 10:17 PMIt wasn't their popularity so much as the fact that the girl could lean over the pool table with her tits hanging out and actually look CUTE, as opposed to trashy. I was jealous, had complicated feelings.
Posted by: Joy at July 16, 2005 5:22 PM