modern courtship: driving with your eyes closed. and without using your hands. so maybe the driving metaphor doesn't work...

The following is a loose transcript of my email correspondence with Nunzio today:

Me: Make with the wooing. Please.
Nunzio: Funny. Funny. Funny. You're very old-fashioned about this stuff you know. Maybe I want to be wooed.
Me: I thought I was wooing you. And I thought I was wooing you AND being modern by telling you to woo me, dammit. Sorry about that. But I've been operating under the generally agreed upon assumption that men, given their hunter/gatherer instincts, generally prefer to be the wooers. Something about you guys needing something to chase down and all. Thrill of the hunt. Whatever. Social anthropology is interesting, but being the quarry becomes very dull when nobody is actually chasing you. Flirtation does make the day pass more quickly, doesn't it?
Nunzio: You crack me up. That was very funny. Flirtation does make the day pass better... I've also been mucho busy at work... When I get my head above water, I will recommense proper wooing. You beast.
Me: Was that "You Beast" or "Your Beast"? One of them has slightly nicer connotations. Although, you're not at all a beast. Quite the gentleman.
Nunzio: [makes an attempt at writing like Dr. Seuss - a perfectly beastly poem]
Me: [counters by stating a preference for Shel Silverstein - I love that "My Beard" poem!]
Nunzio: I meant you as the beast, but not in a bad way. Like a sexy beast. Like the movie. You know? You're going to have to send me the list of WP forbidden words and phrases.
Me: I recall Sexy Beast, but being compared to Ben Kingsley is still not my idea of a compliment. In fact, it's being compared to a homicidal egomaniac being portrayed by the, albeit very talented, not-so-attractive Sir Ben Kingsley. Big freaking ouch. Despite this, our correspondence amuses me greatly.
Nunzio: I was not comparing you to Ben Kingsley. I was calling you a sexy beast, and if you can't handle that compliment, you get coal. C-O-A-L.

An altogether very satisfying day of email courtship.

sweet fancy jeebus - is the week really over?

This week was interminably long. It has been very slow at work, the usual entertaining blogs offered little in the way of amusement (except for this article sent to me by TMS and this post by The Silver Fox).

The robbery date guy has been vacationing in Italy for the past two weeks and doesn't get back till late Saturday. But, he has already asked to see me on Sunday night, and he is bringing a gift! As stated previously, perhaps it is time to give this one a blog handle (blandle? blongdle?). I'm thinking "Nunzio" would be nice. He says that he kept getting mistaken for being Italian anyway, so might as well make it official. I'd say, "Benvenuto, Nunzio!" but I haven't actually given the guy my blog address yet. Gotta take these things slowly.

And I got a little update message from the poor guy that I went out with last February/March - the one where I was all, "um, so... I'm still seeing other people, and I still want to see other people, " and he was all, "but I'm not seeing other people," so I then was all, "well, maybe you should reconsider that." I was a coward and pulled a fadeaway on him after that. (In my defense, he kept his catbox in the kitchen, much like the Fartful Dodger. He was irritatingly nice too - like spineless nice - no challenge whatsoever.) So, he sends out one of those broadcast emails where you bore all your friends by recounting what you had for lunch that day and the last song you heard on the radio, and he oh so subtly mentions his fiancee. I giggled a good bit over that one. Talk about dodging the proverbial grenade...

evil genius bus drivers and my dark side

NYC was great. Not only am I still beat, but my feet are still bruised from extensive retail therapy. (Yay! for my new boots, my new shoes, my new moisturizer and for getting my sister's Christmas present situation fully resolved.)

But the best and worst part of the weekend was the $35 roundtrip Chinatown shuttle bus. The itinerary takes you from DC's Chinatown to NYC's Chinatown (yeah, shocker) in FOUR HOURS FLAT. That's right. I've never been able to do the drive in less than five. And it included a 1 minute stop in Baltimore and a 5 minute stop along the NJ Turnpike so the driver could pee. Pure, unadulterated and evil, genius.

The bus wasn't crowded and I had two seats all to myself on both trips.

Now, the bad part of the trip actually occurred on the return. The only free row was right at the bathroom - and the bath definitely needed some maintenance. There were holes in the door where the lock should have been, and you had to jimmy the clasp so it wouldn't swing open.

I knew there might be a problem right after the guy in front of me decided to utilize the facilities. After this old guy, who could NOT keep the door shut while he was in there [shudder], tore it apart [more shuddering], I knew someone would have to take action. There was an odor issue. So, I took a couple plastic grocery bags and stuffed them into the holes, and began a campaign to persuade all other passengers to "hold it". Welcome to my dark side.

"You don't want to go in there. Trust me." I'd open my eyes really wide and look a bit squeamish. "It's not pretty in there - I think there might be a problem with it." I was able to deter three people from giving in to their baser needs. Its all about speaking with confidence, and being able to look really grossed out. I might have a future career in community theater... Or maybe the White House.

And I don't feel at all bad about it. Not a bit. If I could hold it for four hours, so could everyone else.

on the eve of the return of the whisky muse...

The Brooklyn Freckler, my hostess for Thursday night and my shopping/glamour hero, is taking me to a show tomorrow night! We're going to see 'Night Mother. Not exactly a shinyhappy play, but a very good one. She has also promised a sip of some 17 year old Glengoyne. Gentle readers, the whisky muse (she's been on hiatus while the sinus dominatrix has been kicking my ass) is back! Let's hope this makes for better reading. I mean, Shrek 2 is great and all, but why the hell should you have to read about that crap here? Seriously. I'm embarrassed.

On Friday, The Alabama Slama (the IDEAL travel companion and knower of odd yet useful facts) and I plan some of the usual shoe-shopping/latte-drinking/cheap-manicure-obtaining frolicking. We may meet a common former DC aquaintance for drinks and then go catch the Bridget Jones Edge of Reason flick. All I know is I need some new black boots. I've destroyed both pairs currently in my possession.

Now my mode of transportation to NYC is rather sketchy. I'm taking one of the Chinatown shuttle buses. This could be a rilly bad idea. But it is a rilly cheap bad idea at $35 round trip. Which means more $ for boots and booze! Yay!!!!!!!!! I'll have my iPod and an old copy of Naked Lunch - if those two things cannot drown out or scare off people, I'll be damned.

Oh, and I've had a lovely addition to the iPod. The gentleman who accompanied me on the infamous robbery date sent me a mix cd before he took off for two weeks in Italy. (Yes - we did have a very nice and drama-free 2nd date.) Stuff like Blue by the Jayhawks, Christopher Walken reading Good Night Moon, and Chet Baker's Unsung Swan Song by David Wilcox. Very exciting stuff that does not make me feel all anti-establishmentistic before work (since I'm usually plugged in during my commute). Oh, and he's been keeping me amused with tales of his travels in Italy via email. We might need a nickname for this one. A nice one! I've already warned him about my recent experience with His Flatulence. The fact that he's sent me a mix cd and is emailing me from Italy after learning that I will make an example out of poor dating behavior is very VERY promising.

So, send happy transportation vibes, happy whisky vibes and happy shoe bargain vibes!

giggling like i'm 8 years old

Because I'm watching Shrek 2 and I know that the jokes weren't written for an 8 year old. And because it is really REALLY funny. I'm not sure, but I think that Puss might be my new favorite character of all time. Or Mongo.

I'm taking off for some much needed revelry in NYC on Thursday. I hope to have some nutty stories upon my return.

the other other other white meat

A possible way to deal with the rampant spread of evangelical/radical christianity? Lemme check my copy of The South Beach Diet first...