We Interrupt This Program...

I still have at least two more Southern Culture posts I'd like to write. (Unless everyone is sick of them?) I decided to start this series at a good time -- I don't have a lot going on right now. But that doesn't mean I don't have anything going on, either. For example:

1. I cannot stop eating hot dogs or anything orange-flavored. Maybe it's the summer weather, maybe it's the little kid in me, but all I want are ketchup, orange soda pop (OMG, diet Sunkist? The shiznit.), cheese-filled wieners and that ice cream where they mix the vanilla ice cream with orange sherbet. What is going on??? I never crave this stuff.

2. I am officially b-r-o-k-e. $40 until payday. This is not good. Note to self: DO SOMETHING!!

3. I just burned a new CD today. My favorite tracks include: "Beautiful Liar" -- Beyonce & Shakira, "Hang Me Up to Dry" -- Cold War Kids, "You Know I'm No Good" -- Amy Winehouse, "Like This" -- Kelly Rowland feat. Eve, "We Takin' Over" -- DJ Khaled (et al.) and "Hump de Bump" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, even though they totally sold out on that track. I had no business buying the tracks, but if I don't have new music every 2 months, I can feel my soul dying.

4. Not really any Hot Neighbor news. Haven't seen Hoochie McSkankerton in at least a week. This is good. I probably just jinxed myself, though. I'll probably come home to them sucking face in his driveway again. I did manage to make a complete idiot out of myself, though. (Surprised??) It's a long story, but he needed his sewer turned back on, and he didn't have time to do it since he was going to NC. Being the huge sucker that I am, I blurted out, "I'm not doing anything tomorrow. I can go down to the city offices and do it for you, if you want." The second it flew out of my mouth, I could not believe what a total jackass I was. So if you see me, please write "SUCKER" on my forehead in permanent ink, OK? He ended up doing it himself, so no, I did not run any errands for him. GAH. *bangs head against wall*

5. I didn't do diddly squat over the holiday weekend (see #2, above). Lots of naps, TV watching and hot dog eating. I was pretty much a worthless human being, aside from baking some cookies and working on my big secret project. Which I should actually be calling "Big Secret Project, The Sequel", as the original project needed to be aborted. This re-vamped version is much more...doable. (Again, if you have no idea what I'm talking about or are just plain nosy, email me and I will give you details.) It's ok. I have a 4 day weekend coming up. I can be more productive then. The good thing is, the Summer Parties and cookouts have started. It's starting to be lake time, which is always a fun weekend activity. WOOT!

6. I posted some new recipes on my cooking blog, Virginia Cooks. If you're interested.

But the true highlight of the long weekend was last night.

This is a story which I will call: "I am a Sucker for Awkwardness and Total Humiliation" or "On Realizing That I am a Masochist"

Ahem.

I have been spending a lot of time with the Happy Hour Girls lately, especially E, Butter and their boyfriends. If you remember, we all had a good time together the weekend of Cinco de Mayo. And if you recall, I ended up making out with Rob Thomas, who never called. And yes, I was kind of upset about that.

Well, last night I got a text message from E: "Hey, want to go to dinner with us? We are going to Flying Saucer because Rob Thomas wants to hit on some waitress who works there."

I know she didn't mean anything by it, but did I really need to have this information? To her, it's old news, but to me, it still kind of stings a little that he never called me.

"Dude, no. There's no way I'm going and watching Rob hit on some waitress in front of my face. Not when this is the first time he and I will be seeing each other. Unless you really want me to go," I replied.

She did. And Butter did, too. "Pleeeeeeeeease? I'm Butter! I need bread! You are my bread!" she pleaded. *sigh*

"It's going to be awkward the first time you and Rob see each other, anyway. Might as well get it over with," E said.

"*sigh* Ok. But I'm only going if I can have cigarettes on-demand," I said.

"Done," E said.

I drove over to meet everyone at Rob's house. (Remember, E's boyf is Rob's roommate). Rob and I were cordial, but distant. I wholly avoided eye contact with him (I know, I know. But I just wasn't ready to make nice quite yet.) and talked to everyone else instead. I asked if they liked the cookies. Earlier in the week, I had given E some cookies I made. "Dude, those cookies you made? Amazing," Rob said to me, out of nowhere.

"Really? Because I was sorta hoping you'd choke to death on them!" I wanted to say.
"Dude, your ass-kissing is total bullshit, so fuck off!" I wanted to say.
"That kissing you did? SO average," I wanted to say.

"Thank you. I'm glad you like them," I said instead.

"You wuss!" my brain said.

Soon after, we all piled into cars and drove to the restaurant.

I got MJ and KT to join us, too, and I'm so glad they came. I don't think I could have made it through the meal without having at least 4 girlfriends with me. Thank God for the knowing, understanding and sympathetic looks your girlfriends can give you, all without saying a word. "You OK?" "OMG he's being such a douchebag!" "Don't worry, let's talk about something else!" "Seriously, how dumb is this girl Rob likes?" their eyes said to me.

When I sat down at the table, the only empty seat was next to me. And Rob was the only person who hadn't sat down yet. Super. It looked like I was expecting him to sit next to me. Ugh.

Instead, and far worse, he moved aaaaaall the way to the opposite end of the table from me, and proceeded to pull up a chair. Wow. I don't think that could have been more insulting. Now, not only am I Almost Girl, I also have cooties. This is like 3rd grade all over again. I was already regretting my decision.

My feelings of self-loathing were only intensified when the waitress came over to our table. First off, she wasn't a very good waitress. This is probably because she has the same level of intelligence as a toothpick. Then again, I suppose I am biased. Since she and Rob already knew each other, she proceeds to pull up a chair next to him, where they spent half the meal talking to one another. She spent every possible minute talking to him, and he spent every possible minute trying to make her job easier: "Guys, who ordered the French dip?" "Anyone need anything?" "Are we ready for our bills?" etc.

"It's a good thing my stomach is empty right now, because otherwise, I'd be barfing all over this table," I whispered to MJ as we waited for our food.

"Stiff that stupid bimbo waitress," my brain said.

"I'm gonna stiff her," I told MJ.

I didn't stiff her.

"You wuss!" my brain said.

Anyway, the food was good. My girlfriends were wonderful. The service was below average. The humiliation was total.

Yup. Sounds pretty normal for me.

Never fear. Rob has invited all of us to go to the lake on his boat next weekend. I will get to do a whole repeat of this story, only while wearing my bikini. Because this wasn't quite humiliating enough. To be fully awful, I need to add "pale flesh" and "tummy rolls" to the mix. And if the bimbo waitress comes too? Aaaah, that will be Humiliation Extraordinaire!

It's kind of like a nightmare, only more real.