Archive for January 18th, 2008

Strike three. You’re OUT!

The third thing finally happened. I’d expected it Monday. When it didn’t happen, I figured Thursday. But no, it finally hit today. At 7:05 am.

I was pulled over by the police.

Back in early November, when I was headed to an event at the Computer History Museum, I stopped off at the local Seven Eleven to get some cash. When I pulled in front of the window, I noticed one of my headlights was out.

I decided to tempt fate.

I had two thousand miles to go before my 50k mile checkup, so I was trying to hold out as long as possible so I could have them both done at the same time. I made it to ~49,300 miles before I was rear ended last weekend. I decided that this was the signal to get the headlight fixed.

On Monday, I called and made an appointment for Friday morning. I figured I would be stopped Monday night on the way home. I wasn’t.

The rest of the week went by and I was sure that it would happen on Thursday. Nope. Nada.

This morning, the alarm went off at 6:30 am. At 7, Double D met me at the car dealership. He had to be at the airport by 7:30, and I figured that since he wouldn’t be around, I would drive his car for the day. But I didn’t want to drive his car on the highway, so we left his car at the dealer and I figured I would exchange cars after I dropped him off.

Pulled up to the second stop light and I saw a cop car in the lane to my left. I didn’t want to make the right on red since he was there, but there were no signs saying I couldn’t, and the intersection was open. I thought I was safe, but a block and a half down the road, I saw the lights in my rear view mirror.

I pulled out my license and registration before he got to my door. Just for kicks, I like to keep my registration and insurance card inside my card for Tommy’s Mexican Restaurant that shows which tequilas I’ve tried so far on my way to getting my Tequila Master’s Degree. I do like to taunt fate.

The police officer was pleasant and immediately told me my headlight was out. I tried to explain the irony of the situation, but I’m sure he hears that all the time. He wrote me a citation and now I have to have another police officer sign off on it when I get it fixed. I think I’ll go this afternoon after I pick up my car. I figure a twelve hour turn around is pretty good.

Luckily, Double D was willing to laugh with me about the situation. We were really pressed for time to get him to the airport and this took a good fifteen minutes. I told him I was just making up for the day he got me to the airport five minutes late and I had to spend the day in Phoenix. And lucky for me, Double D was pulled over by the cops yesterday. He had an expired registration tag because he’d forgotten to put the new one on. So I shouldn’t be stopped for that today.

Double D called while I was getting my car checked in. Seems he made his flight after all.

Sick versus drugs

I hate being sick. I hate taking drugs. These two things don’t go together well.

I don’t like to take drugs when I’m sick (or anytime, really) because then I don’t really know how sick I am and so I do more than I should instead of resting. Of course, reducing some pain might be nice. But I have always enjoyed a little pain. After surgery, I quit my morphine drip way early. Didn’t like the cold feeling going into my veins.

I’m still having problems sleeping. It is ridiculous. Keep calling Meine Schwester at 2 am because I know she is awake. Scares the shit out of her when I do it. But she does a good job of putting me to sleep, so I call. Going to bed now in hopes of feeling better in the morning. Have to be up early again. That and I didn’t go to sleep last night until 3 am. This insomnia thing really isn’t working out for me.

Ego boost

I know I don’t talk about work much, but I just have to share this one. The other day, we had a big presentation. My job was to seat people in the hall. Typical sausage fest. Crazy audience that just rushed in as fast as they could when the doors opened. We all had to wear black pants and black shoes. The problem was that before Christmas, I brought a bunch of stuff to Goodwill. So the only closed-toed black shoes I had left were my knee-high boots with the four inch heel (aka FMBs). All the better to control an audience with. All I needed was a riding crop. Might have been useful.

I smiled and directed people. Was forceful when necessary. Was as polite as possible. Had a couple guys on the ends of the rows that would try to make conversation every time I passed. At least they were trying. One guy asked me my name on the second time. The third time, he offered me his seat. I thanked him and explained that I would be on the sidelines.

Another guy tried to get into my section that was already full. I said no. He explained he just wanted to go take a photo up close. I told him to make sure he comes back when he was done. Another girl in my section had found an empty seat, so when the guy with the camera came back and told me he was leaving, I pulled him aside, thanked him, and told him to talk to the other girl because she had a seat for him. He was excited.

I ran into a bunch of coworkers. I also gave a big hug to one of my favorite former interns. No, I didn’t sleep with him, but he might have been in my bathroom once.

I was moved back a section after mine was fully closed. One guy was kneeling in his chair talking to the people behind me. As soon as he saw me, he yells out, “Excuse me, Miss, but this guy is causing trouble. I think you should kick him out.” Troublemaker turned around and I realized I knew him. I think the people sitting near him looked at me funny when I blurted out, “Are you fucking kidding me? I told you not to make any trouble or I’d kick your ass out of here.” It was fate that this random guy decided to point out one of the few people I knew out of the thousands in the room. The rest of the people in the surrounding rows were quite well behaved after that.

After the talk, I had to hand out swag. I pretended that this is what I do every day. I’m an engineer disguised as an overpaid booth babe. The big, perma smile, the kind that gives you an awful headache after. Lots of please and thank you. I told the girl next to me that I was in training to be an airline stewardess. If I saw people approaching the table, I’d extend my swag towards them and say, “Poster, sir?” I love contagious smiles. If you smile at someone, it is hard for them not to smile back. And then they smile at someone else. It is great.

So the award for best try (but worst pickup line) goes to a guy who took a poster from the guy next to me. Then he saw me, so he handed back the poster and walked over to me and said, “I’d rather have your poster.”

“Sir, do you realize that I just took this poster from his pile? I didn’t even roll it myself.” I’d given up rolling my own. Was just stealing them from other people who weren’t giving them away as quickly.

“It really just gives me nine more seconds to talk to you.” The girl next to me was horrified. I was flattered. Seriously, I’m talking about thousands of geeks filling a room. You have to give anyone who tries like that some mad props. Sure it was kind of cheesy, but how many people would have liked to talk to someone in the room and didn’t because they were afraid.

So Nine-Second Dude, you may not have gotten my number, but you managed to get my attention. Keep up the good work, but next time you might not want to break the heart of the guy next to me. ;-)

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