A Dub

While having coffee this morning at ING Direct, an online bank that has a few cafes, one of which is eight blocks from here, I spoke with an employee who told me that the company is hiring. So when I got home, I touched up my resume, then sent it off. The system did not allow for a cover letter, which I would have preferred, because in it I could have stated how the employee, who would likely be my boss, thought I'd be great at the job. As a whole, the application process felt very mechanical, but, hell, if I can't get an interview to do flippin' phone sales, I may as well pack things in.

Which is kind of what I did today, anyway, after having made decent progress the last couple days. But I NEEDED to laugh, so I watched Thursday night comedies, then cried while watching Celebrity Rehab. The celebs got to work out their anger by beating the shit out of objects in a junk yard. It looked highly therapeutic.

Before watching Celebrity Rehab, I walked down the street to get some frozen yogurt from the place on the corner. The young, attractive brunette at the counter threw me just enough of a look, then a flattering line, so I wondered a bit. I went back after the show for a second helping of yogurt (cappuccino the first time, French vanilla the second), and as I paid, she asked if I'd like a song. Sure, I said, so she stands there, looking me dead in the eye and sings "Bring on the Men" from Jekyll and Hyde (I think that was the show; I'll admit that the whole scenario seemed surreal). So at this point I'm pretty sure she's flirting (and by the way, she was a very good singer), except that she prefaced the song with the comment, "This is one I sing for older guys. Older men." So she was either bucking for a big tip or she has daddy issues. Either way, I'm intrigued.

The only golf for today was reading a little of Harvey and watching a little of Phil at Torrey, which means two days in a row have passed without me contacting a ball with a club.

And I didn't work on Exit Wound, even though I pulled it up and intended to. But perhaps today was a day meant for frozen yogurt and its consequences.

18 Below