justnick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I met him on a Monday and my heart stood still... BGM: "Da Doo Ron Ron" - The Chiffons Because I never learned how to say no to a Griffiths girl, I'm updating. So let's see, what's new in my life? Well, My Medicare is expired, so now I have no proof of my age, beyond the pure unbridled masculinity of my presence. This came to my attention when a bouncer at Brutopia asked me for some ID, which I discovered I didn't have. Ain't that a shame. Well, I proceeded to very calmly explain to the man how I had wasted half of the last hundred paychecks I had gotten at that godforsaken boozepit, so in my opinion it wasn't unreasonable for him to let it slide this once that I was without the proper identification. He let me pass, and then I, ever true to my idiot self, proceeded to make a smartass comment. I really try not to, I swear. But sometimes they just slip out. It's in my DNA to hate bouncers, and as I've said, my mouth often works faster than my brain. Now, how did I avoid getting the stuffing knocked out of me, you ask? It's quite simple. Right when he was about to take me outside and most likely do just that, I flagged down a barmaid that I knew (and tipped heavily). She told him she could vouch for me, and he let me go with a stern talking-to. Right as I'm home free, though, my wiseass complex comes back, and what do I do? I wink at the guy. The only thing that saved me from a somewhat sterner talking to was one of my friends smiling prettily at him while another forced me up the stairs, away from the dread creature. I got your ID right here, bouncer man. What else is new? Well, I went to see a legendary concert last night. The Funk Brothers were playing the Jazz Fest, along with the Four Tops, the Temptations, and other 'special guests'. Yes, folks, I saw 'my girl', 'ain't no mountain high enough', 'heard it through the grape vine', and a bunch of other classics performed live. It was fantastic. It has also inspired me to refer to women as 'chickens' for the rest of my natural life. It's degrading enough to be satisfying, but just outdated enough that no one will care. As any of my frequent readers could tell you, I had a sizeable crush on my songbird, one Ms. Ginny B, for quite some time. We ended up becoming best friends, and usually the only thing that keeps her away for extended periods of time is when she has a gig, or when she gets a boyfriend. Recently, she had started calling less and less, until I began to think she had a significant other. Well, this morning I found out who had been stealing her time from me, and his name was Bonnie. Strange, I could have sworn somebody told me that his name was Bill. He was a she, and not a significant other at all. Just some girl Ginny met at work. Which, now that I think about it, makes me even more jealous. If I'm gonna be a platonic friend, I might as well be the Big Kahuna. I mean, not like I'm getting any other kind of female attention, right? So as ever, I remain Justnick, bewildered pedestrian on the autobon of love. Excelsior. 11:17 p.m. - 2004-07-05 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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