The things people say…

So today I was listening to the radio on my way into work.  I happen to listen to a local talk radio station.  In my ten to twenty minute drive, I get sports, the celebrity gossip, traffic, and news.  In that order. 

Today they had a guest on the show.  She was an exotic dancer.  Among other things.  And when they asked her about the “other things” that she had done, she seemed embarrassed.  Why is one embarrassed with their profession?  And if one IS embarrassed, why doesn’t one change professions?  Just a thought.  Anywhoodle, turns out she is not just an exotic dancer, she is also an adult film star.  They asked her how many films she had done, and her first answer was 150 to 200.  In three years.  Then she tried to backpeddle and say that she lost count.  But of course my brain was working overtime.  150 in three years…hmm…that’s roughly 4 a month…hmm…I wonder what that pays…4 a month?  Wow that seems like a lot.  That’s one adult film a week…hmm…sometimes that’s more than I have sex…hmm…maybe my sex life is lacking…hmm…

And I arrived at school.  With sex on the brain.

On a totally different note, I just need to vent.  Why do people have to be rude?  I didn’t make it home in time for the office last night and we couldn’t DVR it because there were already 2 shows being recorded.  I was totally bummed and intend to watch the web cast tonight.  So I get into work and this incredibly full of himself co-worker asks me if I saw it b/c we usually discuss it.  I say no and please don’t talk about it because I haven’t seen it yet and I don’t want to hear about it.  About two seconds of silence…aaaaand he launches into a verbatim rehearsal of the show.  Are you kidding?  I very nicely asked you not to ruin it for me and you couldn’t keep your big mouth shut.  So I get up and leave and he yells, “You don’t have to go, I’m not giving the spoiler”  I yell back, “If you didn’t have to be so rude, I wouldn’t have to leave.”  Asshat.  Then we get to lunch.  We’re discussing gas and what not and the music teacher brings up health care.  She heard on Dateline or something about the universal health care program that Taiwan has.  She’s Taiwanese.  So we start talking about it b/c I heard a program on NPR about it.  He interrupts me to say, “No, You’re wrong.  It’s like this.”  Ok jackass.  First of all, don’t interrupt me.  Secondly, if you had LET ME FUCKING FINISH MY SENTENCE you would have realized that I wasn’t wrong, but that you and I were discussing different parts of the program.  Fast forward five minutes, we’re now discussing how stable the European economy is and how they have better public transportation, better education, and better healthcare.  I jokingly say that I’m going to move there.  He interrupts me AGAIN to tell me that I’m wrong because if the American economy goes to shit, so will the European.  I try to state my opinion again.  He AGAIN tells me that my opinion is wrong.  Thankfully someone opens the door to tell him to come collect his children because I would have had to walk away again.  24 more days.  24 more days.  24 more days.

 

(editor’s note:  we don’t usually discuss ANYTHING this serious at lunch.  Usually the most serious we get is the worst names we’ve had or heard of in the classroom.  Ssston?  Seriously people?)

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “The things people say…

  1. mis-communication, must be catchy . . .
    I’m a hater (bwahaha), no seriously, I think I hate people more everyday – and some wonder why I ‘hide’ in the country, it’s avoid people, naturally.

    Oh, and worst name ever? Shithead (pronounced Shi – thead, not the way I know you were reading it!)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s