Friday, May 31, 2002
I hate pretentious people. I work at a very posh "guest ranch" -- AKA a 5 star resort with a country theme. I wait on people with enough money to casually throw down $300 for wine (not to mention a $34 a plate meal for a party of 10 -- just put it on my bill). I don't mind that they have money, but I hate getting "summoned." I had a 12-year-old boy summoned me yesterday. With two fingers. Beckoned me over and casually ordered (carefully looking through me, not at me) a Shirley Temple, and could that please come with the meal. I said yes of course and will there be anything else sir. Tonight he prefered a Pepsi. With a cherry. And could he please have one now, and one with his meal. I brought it when his salad arrived and had to set it aside. Then when the meal came he had to have a fresh one. He's the sort of person who will star on Frasier someday.
Well, giving in to blatant peer pressure (well not really, but Teri seems to think it's a better idea than my rather sporadic attempts at journaling) I thought I'd try this for a while.
I love books. I truly do. I've been in California for about two weeks now, and I've probably bought at least a book every day. Thank heavens for used bookstores or I would be seriously in debt. I've bought a great one -- Suprised by Joy (C.S. Lewis). It's very good so far. Anyone who isn't obsessed with his writings should instantly become so. Take a dictionary, and read the problem of pain at your own risk.
Speaking of bookstores, I've always been told that you can't meet men at a bookstore. I proved that wrong. I was at a bookstore recently (In the lovely town of Monterey, CA -- I may move there permanently if all the bookstores are thus inhabited) and this young gentleman came up started talking to me about all sorts of things. The Lord of the Ring trilogy turned out to be his favorite set (convenient!). Then he took my hand and asked if I was married or engaged (I DID have a ring on, but it was on my right hand) or dating anyone. I said no, and wanted to know why. I told him that a girl in my line of work doesn't meet men who are interested in women very often. So, to cut to the interesting part of the story, I said I had to go because a friend and I were catching a movie, and he helped me to my feet, said he didn't want me to go because he was having such a good time, and then kissed me. In the middle of the History section. Random, yes, and yet it was completely non-creepy. So who says you can't meet guys in a bookstore.
I love books. I truly do. I've been in California for about two weeks now, and I've probably bought at least a book every day. Thank heavens for used bookstores or I would be seriously in debt. I've bought a great one -- Suprised by Joy (C.S. Lewis). It's very good so far. Anyone who isn't obsessed with his writings should instantly become so. Take a dictionary, and read the problem of pain at your own risk.
Speaking of bookstores, I've always been told that you can't meet men at a bookstore. I proved that wrong. I was at a bookstore recently (In the lovely town of Monterey, CA -- I may move there permanently if all the bookstores are thus inhabited) and this young gentleman came up started talking to me about all sorts of things. The Lord of the Ring trilogy turned out to be his favorite set (convenient!). Then he took my hand and asked if I was married or engaged (I DID have a ring on, but it was on my right hand) or dating anyone. I said no, and wanted to know why. I told him that a girl in my line of work doesn't meet men who are interested in women very often. So, to cut to the interesting part of the story, I said I had to go because a friend and I were catching a movie, and he helped me to my feet, said he didn't want me to go because he was having such a good time, and then kissed me. In the middle of the History section. Random, yes, and yet it was completely non-creepy. So who says you can't meet guys in a bookstore.
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