Libertine

The other day, I stopped in at a fast food joint to get something to eat.  I gave my order to the person standing behind the cash register, who did not acknowledge the order in any way and made no move to enter it into the cash register.  Instead, he was looking around me, silently trying to get the attention of someone out in the dining area.  No customers were standing in line, so I figured it had to be someone already seated.  The person behind the register moved down the counter, still gesturing to some unseen person, extending a hand, but did not call out to whomever it was.  Nor did he say anything to me, such as "I'll be right with you."

Slightly put out, I waited as the person returned to the cash register.   Again, I gave my order, and again, the person ignored me, still looking around me at some unknown person.  Now completely pissed, I asked him, "Are you going to wait on me or are you going to talk to somebody else?"

Finally, the clueless clerk spoke.  "I was just trying to give him his change!" and showed me three pennies.  First of all, there was no "him" to be seen -- the ordering area had been empty of people the entire time I'd been inside the restaurant -- and secondly, you don't get that invisible person's attention by gesturing silently, however much you stare and wave your arms.

Thoroughly irritated by this time, I said, "Fuck it" and stalked out, getting my meal elsewhere, from a place where I was actually able to get someone to take my order.

While out driving on Halloween the other night, I drove through a neighborhood in full trick or treat mode.  Though a minority of older kids walked from house to house, most kids were driven by their parents to each house, getting in and out of the vehicle (mostly ubiquitous minivans) ever 25 feet or so.

This meant that the road was clogged with pausing and slow moving vehicles, which made it very difficult for through traffic to drive down the street.  It also made it more dangerous for drivers like me because it made it harder to see kids on foot, and made it more dangerous for the kids, as it made it harder for them to see through traffic, and because of the unpredictable movements of the minivan parade.

I don't know why the parents of small children just didn't park their vehicles and get off their lazy asses and walk with their kids to each house.  And the parents of older children should have been home giving out candy and let those kids travel in groups to trick or treat on their own.  It seems to me that if you're ten or eleven, having to spend the night getting in and out of a car with your parents there the whole time would suck all the joy right out of Halloween.

Halloween is totally different now for kids than it was when I was a kid trick or treating back in the sixties and early seventies.  For one thing, only the smallest children had parents going with them to trick or treat, and even then the parents walked with their kids, they didn't drive them from house to house.  And from about the second grade onwards (age 8), kids trick or treated on their own in groups in their own neighborhoods and the parents stayed home to hand out candy to other kids. 

I lived in a huge subdivision where nearly every house participated.   My mother would give me a king size pillow case and I'd fill that up, then return to get another one to fill.  Trick or treating typically began at dusk, and continued for a few hours. 

It was a lot more fun for us than it is for kids nowadays and I kind of feel sorry for kids now because they won't experience Halloween like most Baby Boom era kids did.

It seems as if I have a homing device to attract the religious of all stripes.  I don't know what it is; perhaps it's my air of disrepute that attracts them like moths to a flame.

Recently, they hired a new guy at my place of employment, a squeaky-clean, straight arrow kind of person.  I didn't have a problem with him until he started peddling his religion on me.  He'd heard that I liked music and had some formal musical training, so he used that as a way to start preaching to me.  Starting out innocently enough, he told me that he was the "praise leader" at his church, in charge of providing the music for their services, blah, blah, blah.

After a few moments of this, he got to his point of the entire conversation -- he wanted to know where I went to church. All the fundies do this, as they believe it's their duty to sell their religion to one and all.

Not really caring to discuss my opinion about religion with him, I simply told him that I didn't go, hoping to leave it at that.

No such luck.

He invited me to attend his church, telling me that I could be an asset to their "praise team" with my musical training.

I nearly choked and laughed myself to death all at the same time.  Hell, talk about barking up the wrong tree!  I'd probably burst into flames if I ever set foot into his smarmy, fundamentalist church.

Still not wanting to discuss religion in a work setting, I merely declined, citing the fact that I'm scheduled to work every Sunday. 

Fortunately, at this moment, he had to get back to work, so I was spared being more blunt with him.  But I'm guessing that some time soon, I'll have to tell him to fuck off in no uncertain terms.

I looked at my latest car payment statement.  I only owe $660 more on my car, so I'll be finally free of car payments by the beginning of the year.  It's been a long time since I've not owed on a car and I'm looking forward to having more money at my disposal for other things.  I just hope the car doesn't fall apart once I get my title in the mail.

I hope to use some of the money I used for car payments each month to go towards paying my credit cards down.  I'll start with the one I owe the least on and concentrate on getting it paid off, then move on to the next one.  I'm sure I'll be spending money on car repairs, but at least I won't have to come up with the same amount of money each and every month.

Getting this particular car loan paid off is a victory of sorts for me.  I was only a year into the loan when I was fired from my last job.  My first thought as I left that job for good was that I was going to lose my car.  But despite six months of unemployment, followed by having to take a job that paid less than half of what I'd been making before, I've still got the car and I'm about to own it free and clear.  I almost feel like driving  by my former place of employment to thumb my nose at them as a symbolic way to show them that despite them kicking me down, that I was far from out.

Here's a sample of quotes I found about sex while surfing the net. Enjoy!

Love your neighbor, but don't get caught.
-- Unknown

Sow your wild oats on Saturday night -- Then on Sunday pray for crop failure. --Unknown

When I'm good I'm very, very good but when I'm bad I'm better.
--Mae West

Happiness is watching the TV at your girlfriend's house during a power failure.
--Bob Hope

You know of course that the Tasmanians, who never committed adultery, are now extinct.
--Somerset Maugham

A nymphomaniac is a women as obsessed with sex as the average man.
--Mignon McLaughlin

I believe that sex is a beautiful thing between two people. Between five, it's fantastic.
--Woody Allen

"What's the three words you never want to hear while making love? Honey, I'm home."
--Ken Hammond

I am always looking for meaningful one night stands.
--Dudley Moore

It isn't premarital sex if you have no intention of
getting married.
--Matt Barry

Leaving sex to the clergy is like letting your dog
vacation at the taxidermist.
--Camille Paglia

A man needs a mistress just to break the monogamy.
-- Unknown

I believe that trust is more important that monogamy
-- Savage Garden

While monogamy may be a great thing for families, it clearly is not for intellectuals
--the inventor of the birth control pill

Chastity: the most unnatural of the sexual perversions.
--Aldous Huxley

I've been too fucking busy and vice versa.
--Dorothy Parker

She gave me a smile I could feel in my hip pocket.
--Raymond Chandler

Older women are best because they always think they may be doing it for the last time.
--Ian Fleming

It's not the men in my life that counts - it's the life in my men.
--Mae West

It doesn't matter what you do in the bedroom as long as you don't do it in the street and frighten the horses.
--Mrs Patrick Campbell

Love is not the dying moan of a distant violin - it's the triumphant twang of a bedspring.
--S. J. Perelman

Is sex dirty? Only if it's done right.
--Woody Allen

When authorities warn you of the sinfulness of sex, there is an important lesson to be learned. Do not have sex with the authorities.
--Matt Groening

I don't see why I have to make one man miserable when I can make so many men happy.
--Ellyn Mustard

Ducking for apples -- change one letter and it's the story of my life.
--Dorothy Parker

Sex between a man and a woman can be great, provided you get between the right man and the right woman.
--Woody Allen

How many husbands have I had? You mean, apart from my own?
--Zsa Zsa Gabor

It is an infantile superstition of the human spirit that virginity would be thought a virtue and not the barrier that separates ignorance from knowledge. --Voltaire

Sex on television can't hurt you unless you fall off.
--Unknown

Promiscuous, adj. Someone who gets more sex than you.
--Author unidentified

When I get bored, I go over to Bookreads and answer some questions from their "Never Ending Book Quiz".  One question I came upon made me smile; it was as if it had been written especially for me. 

The quiz follows below:

Which of the following famous libertines was a real person?

1. Romeo
2. Don Juan
3. Casanova
4. Lothario

A box of cyber condoms for all correct guessers.

For most of my life, I’ve had recurring dreams. These aren’t dreams where every detail is exact, but the key points are present in the theme.

One dream I used to have fairly often as a kid involved me walking out onto a deserted beach. I’d come upon a huge glass bubble/dome. I’d go to the door and there would be a big slot where I’d have to insert a penny the size of a manhole cover in order to get inside the bubble. Once inside, there were doctors everywhere performing operations. But they weren’t operating on people. The “operations” were amorphous blobs of various sizes; the larger the blob, the more serious the operation. After seeing everything, I’d wander out and start walking away from the ocean. As I’d come upon a big round pit in the sand, I’d hear the sound of motorcycles approaching. The doctors were riding the motorcycles and they’d circle round and round the pit several times. Odd dream that I’ve not had again in adulthood.

In another dream, I was at the very top of the Chrysler Building in New York City late at night by myself. The entire inside of the building had been totally gutted, except for the railings from the stairways. I’d look down 77 stories of what amounted to a gaping hole, wondering how I was going to get down. I’d carefully jump from railing to railing, slowly making my way down, always afraid I’d make a misstep and fall into the hole. Again, I haven’t had this particular dream in a long time.

One dream that I still have from time to time involves tornadoes. The details always differ, but the theme of the dream is a tornado coming and I’m trying to find shelter. I always find somewhere to hunker down, but just before the tornado strikes, I find something about the shelter that is vulnerable and inadequate. Nevertheless, the tornado never gets me and I always survive.

Feel free to share your recurring dreams in your comment.

Like most people, I’ve had several embarrassing things to happen to me in my life. What I am about to relate, however, is probably my most embarrassing moment.

One evening in the early nineties, I decided to drive thirty miles to a larger town to visit a bookstore, bringing my then preteen son along with me.

Not long after we arrived and my son had gone off to look at the kids’ books, I was hit by severe stomach cramps. I tried to ignore it, hoping it would go away, but the pain only increased. I knew that I had to find a bathroom -- fast!

The store had a public restroom; a single toilet bathroom meant to be used by both sexes. And I got to it just in time. No sooner than I’d sat on the toilet than I was hit with extreme diarrhea. I sat there for several minutes, not wanting to get up until I was sure I was through. Several times, I thought I was done, but had to sit down again for another wave.

Finally, the stomach pain abated. I wiped, then flushed the toilet and moved to wash my hands. But I never heard that “glug-glug-glug” sound a toilet makes after a successful flush, so I turned to see what the problem was. To my dismay, the water in the toilet was rising rapidly and it overflowed as I watched. And kept overflowing until the water and unmentionable stuff was two inches deep on the bathroom floor and was flowing out the bottom of the door onto the sales floor.

Normally, in such an instance, in the usual public, multi-stalled restroom, I’d just quietly slink away from the scene of the crime, as no one would know who’d done it. But in this instance, I was trapped. I’d asked a salesclerk where the bathroom was, so they’d know who’d done it, if I simply slunk out of the store. And because I wanted to be able to come back there again to buy books, sneaking out wasn’t an option.

And I didn’t want to leave the bathroom to search for a salesperson to tell them what had happened, as another person could have gone into the bathroom and found the mess while I was doing that.

Looking around the bathroom, I saw several rolls of paper towels, so I cleaned up the nastiest part of the mess as well as I could, stuffing their trashcan full of dirty towels. I did all this with my stomach still on the queasy side. However, there was still the water and some residual nastiness to deal with after I’d used up all the towels.

I poked my head out the door and got the attention of a passing salesclerk, asking him to bring me a mop and a bucket, explaining that the toilet had overflowed. After it was brought, I cleaned it up as quickly as I could.

Finally, I came out. The manager thanked me for cleaning it up, and mentioned, offhandedly that they’d been having that problem with the toilet for some time. More than a little put out, I asked why hadn’t it been fixed and why wasn’t there a sign in the bathroom warning people of the problem, as I’d have run next door to the Burger King to use the bathroom had I known their toilet was malfunctioning. He mumbled some sort of an excuse about their budget, but said he’d put up a sign.

I left soon thereafter, and it was over a year before I went to that store again.

Feel free to share your own embarrassing moments in the comment section.

Most of us were raised to believe that any sort of self-pity is an emotion that must be avoided like the plague. We were taught that when someone asks, "How are you?", we are to reply "Fine", regardless of our actual circumstances. It didn't matter whether we just lost our job, our mother just died, and our house burned down all in the space of a week; "Fine" was still the only appropriate response.

But why?

Self-pity is merely another way of saying "compassion for the self". It is an understandable emotion when times are tough, especially for a prolonged time, a way of acknowledging that we deserve better. Having to smile, smile, smile in the face of disaster is a form of denial, pollyannaism.

If we can never feel sorry for ourselves, that is, have any compassion for ourselves, then how can we feel it for others? Like charity, compassion begins at home.

Sometimes feeling sorry for ourselves can spur us into a "I'm mad and not going to take it any longer" mode that makes us work to change what we can about our situations. But there are many shitty situations we can't change by ourselves, or at all, and it's unrealistic to expect someone to always feel glad in such an instance.

Of course, when self-pity becomes entrenched and becomes a way of life that immobilizes a person from attempting to help themselves, it has gotten out of hand and should be overcome.

But not all compassion for the self is like this. Most of the time, if a person allows themselves to acknowledge thoughts of self pity, it will eventually run its course and the person will move on.

I imagine I'm going to get hammered on this one, as what I've said goes against conventional wisdom, but this is how I see it.