The Emperor's New Pepper

I had gone to Macaroni Grill. That was probably my first mistake. It was my last day at my old job, and my parents wanted to take me out to eat. Unfortunately I forgot that this was the plan and had earlier eaten a huge burger and a drank few equally huge beers. I was drunk. And I was going to dinner twice.

The fact that I could only imagine being able to choke down a salad (at best) meant that my ordering was simple. I would have a salad. And on this salad I would have ground pepper. Or so I thought.

The quasi-goth, semi-chubby, faux-waitress arrived and took our order. Experiencing buzzed subjective time it seemed like she immediately returned with my salad. Thats where things took a turn for the argumentative. This half-measure of a woman pretended to grind pepper onto my salad. I courteously explained that I believed her mill was empty, but she countered that the pepper was very fine. I leaned close to my salad and commended her on her ability to dissolve pepper into subatomic particles.

I was ignored because I was drunk, but the charade was too much for me. Even now! My parents sat there and pretended that she ground out pepper for them. In their defense, my dad did condescendingly comment on just how fine it was. So it's not like they bought it (or Dad didn't). But we sat our asses in those seats and ate like Peter Pan; imagining we were consuming hallucinatory spices.

It's the night that's been replaying itself over and over, projecting its madness on the very bone and tissue of my head.

Has this ever happened to any of you?

A related rant.

I have a question for all of you. Especially women. Answer this simple question.

Why is this a "Guy Fridge"?

You'll notice that there's not even that much alcohol in it. I was proud that I could see the bottom without moving even one six pack, or fifth of liquor of any sort. And it even had the potential for a few meals in there (sammich' fixin's in the drawer are hard to see, but present.) And yet, all I hear is "oh, that's such a guy's refrigerator."

What the hell do you have to put in there to make it not a guy's fridge? Tampons? Help me out here.

Walking the Earth.

Him: So if you're quitting the life, what'll you do?

Me: That's what I've been sitting here contemplating. First, I'm gonna finish this post. Then, basically, I'm gonna walk the earth.

Alas, no more waking hours consisting of 2 P.M. to 5:30 A.M., I've quit the life. I'll say no more now, since I'm on the verge of passing out from lack of sleep. I just wanted to tell you that I'm alive. And I've got a shit-ton of good news to lovingly dump on your unsuspecting bodies.

But for now, I have to pack; tomorrow I begin my long journey.

- Cryptic, but optimistic, Scott

Will play WoW for salary

Picture that on a cardboard sign resting dashingly across chiseled pectoral muscles. You'd have some idea of my predicament. That's right Wonder Readers, I've been shitcanned. Gone are the halcyon days of playing World of Warcraft, hiding under floor tiles to scare co-workers, and blogging from work. Also, gone is the working. That too.

I'll not bore you with every detail (and I don't have any desire to offend former employers who might read this), but the short version of the story is that I was hired at the same time as another employee but started a few days later. This established seniority in his favor, and when it came down from the boss's boss's boss that the Operations department would have five instead of six... well, guess who was Number Six*? Me baby, me.

In the intervening time I've spent a weekend with a girl in another city, drank several varieties of beer, almost bought a car, drank some gin, cleaned up my apartment, and had a few drinks. I also watched 12 movies**.

Currently I'm drawing unemployment and plotting my next move. I like the first part better. You don't have a job? Oh, well here's money then. Excuse my prior anti-government rants, because this part clearly works.

So, good readers. I have no idea what I want to do. I could travel, move to another city, get another job, become a grifter, or get my (sham) Doctorate. Really my possibilities are wide open at this point.

What would you like to see me do?



Asides:
* To be fair, so are Tricia Helfer and Patrick McGoohan
** And if you're curious, here's the list:

1. Before Sunset
2. Wet Hot American Summer
3. Pirates of the Caribbean (1)
   
4. Pirates of the Caribbean (3)
5. Waking Life
6. Les Yeux sans visage
7. Tombstone
8. Office Space
9. Super Troopers
10. Accepted
    
11. American Beauty
12. Hackers