What I Did Today

Normally, I hate blogs where the authors just write about whatever they did that day. Unfortunately, this accounts for 99% of all blogs. It's usually something like this.

SUNDAY, NOV. 6

OMG WTF today B told me he wasn't going to no party at Fawntenelle's place, tho he sed he wuz the other day when we wuz chillin' by the bleachers bumping that hot new Chingy joint... SMD OMFG 11111

<3<3<3

At 11:30, I went to work. You can usually tell when it's going to be a particularly crazy day down at the store (a crazy day being one in which more than 5 totally batshit insane people come to shop there), and this morning started off slow. But after the first hour, I'd probably helped at least 3 nutjobs. So I was getting wary.

A few hours in, the boss told us that one out of the three working employees could take off early. He did not, however, specify which employee. And of course all three of us wanted to leave.

We thought for a good long while about how best to handle the situation. All the usual suspects were mentioned: rock paper scissors, drawing straws, flipping a coin, but all had significant down sides. There's really no way to do a totally fair rock paper scissors decision between three people, unless you devise a sort-of RPS Tournament. And that's just kind of lame to take part in (not to mention time-consuming and requiring rudimentary math skills).

And, if we were to draw straws, we'd first need three straws, and then a sufficient cutting tool. I could see that whole situation going awry really quickly.

So I suggested the following: we have a randomly selected customer take a piece of paper and write down a number between 1 and 100, not showing the paper to any of us. Then, we each choose a number. Whoever gets closest to the number of the paper goes home early.

And none of this "Price is Right" no going over nonsense. Whoever's closest in either direction takes the taco. Once we agreed to this strategy, and that no one would call foul afterwards for some sort of ticky-tack BS, I asked a regular customer to pick a number. He spent a little bit too long thinking of a number - as if the mere act of thinking of any random number from 1-100 was some sort of strenuous labor - and then jotted something down. I held it, for safekeeping, under a nearby leftover Halloween jack-o-lantern.

Co-Worker #1, Ari, chose 3. It was an interesting decision, cutting himself off at the very bottom like that. If there was the "no going over" rule, I could see his decision-making. We'd all probably go a bit higher, so if the number was anywhere from 3-20 something, he was nearly guaranteed a win.

I went next. I chose 32. I figured, it's a good distance from 3, so I get a bunch of numbers in that direction, and my next co-worker would probably go with a high number after that, meaning that anything from 17 to something like the 50's would be mine.

Instead, Co-Worker #2, Ray, went with 13. An interesting move. Okay, I'll say it, a bad move. I think maybe he and Ari were both still thinking that they couldn't go over the chosen number.

Anyway, the number was 64, so it wouldn't have mattered. I won outright, no matter how you figure it. And I instantly felt really guilty. I had chosen the game, and I had blurted out "32" before Ray had a chance to speak, so I felt like there was an appearance of impropriety. I was even going to suggest a do-over, but I had been the one to initially say "no do-overs," so it just felt kind of wrong and hypocritical. My co-workers took it really well, but was there, deep down, burning feelings of resentment? Only time will tell...

So I got to leave work at around 4:30, which was nice. I proceeded to utterly waste the "found" afternoon watching the first season of "Veronica Mars" on DVD. I also took a break to go check out the brand-new digs of my friends Jeff and Garth, two-thirds of the terrific LA band The Ventriloquists. We watched the local news until it became depressing, and then Garth played for me and Jeff the brand-new mix of their song "Toxic Sun."

We then made a bizarre discovery. If you play the chorus of said song backwards in ProTools, it sounds exactly like South African music. Seriously, this could have been a B-Side from Paul Simon's "Graceland" album. We started having strange science-fiction themed ideas, like what if our language and some African language were actually identical, only with all the actual sounds reversed. I suggested that this would make a good Dean Koontz story...A composer writes a great new song, but discovers that, if played backwards, his song is actually some crazy old tribal song used to summon a demon to Earth or some bullshit like that.

It could be very Lovecraftian and awesome. If you're a huge movie producer and are interested in funding a big-budget adapatation of this idea, please e-mail me as soon as you've finished wiring the money to my Swiss bank account.

Then I came home and discussed Roommate Crisis '05 with Nathan and Chris. See, Roommate Chris is moving out in two weeks, with November being his last month as a dues-paying member of Team Palms. Vineet was originally going to fill Chris' vacancy, but he is a dirty double-crosser. Now we are actively showing our apartment to potential new roommates.

Unfortunately, prospective roommates don't stay for long. Usually, we let them inside, they take one look around, and then make for the door like the place was filled with flu-infected seagulls. Seriously, we had a guy in here the other day who left so quickly...I don't even think he went out the door. He just flung himself out the nearest available opening.

And they always want to be polite, these prospective roommates. They never want to say, "Oh, this place is small and gross and you guys are lame, I don't want to live here." They always have to pretend to really like your apartment.

"Oh, yeah, this looks nice, well, I'll give you guys a call, I have about 8 more places to see tonight, so I've got to go, but let me know if you don't find anyone because I think it might be okay, and I really should get out of here, but you've got my number, oh you don't, well, I've got yours so I'll be in touch okay you guys have a good night I'm gonna go. Nice 'Simpsons' poster."

Yes, I do have a poster with The Simpsons on it, but we also have a Kandinsky print hanging up. So it's, you know, classy.

Hopefully, we'll eventually get someone to hang out for long enough to enjoy our sparkling personalities. Then, I'm sure the fact that we live in a cramped, unkempt hovel above a parking lot that substitutes as a Daycare Center and Produce Market will cease to matter entirely.