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12:28 p.m. - 2007-11-14
nice ball

It is my own fault that I don't have the Serius satelite radio set up in my car. However, the punishment of only having access to radio stations that play all Nickleback all of the time is cruel and unusual. Or maybe cruel and usual. I mean, what the hell. It plays on the station that plays "anything" the station that plays hip hop and the station that plays "70s 80s 90s and today".

NPR is my solace. But they play jazz a lot of the time, including the time I am driving to work because the mewsy part ends at 9am and I am barely out of bed and fumbling for the coffee grinder at that hour.

Jazz doesn't really do it for me so I bounce around the other stations basically just trying to avoid Nickleback. Sometimes I have no choice but to tune it to Bob Studebaker and his loungy, jazzy, energetic but calm and cool voice, playing loungy, jazzy, energetic but calm and cool music.

If I hear one whiny, gravely line about photographs and angels from whatshisface on NPR, ever EVER ever, I am ripping out the wires from the radio.

I wish I could re-tell a funny story here from the other night but it's just TOO inappropriate. I can maybe allude to it a little bit without freaking anyone out. So Kevin went to the hockey game with a friend from work and I went and worked out and then met Haley for a drink. We went to a local spot that Kevin and I often go to and where we know a lot of people. After a few drinks, Haley, who has been coming there with me or us more frequently, decides to raise this question to the general public. Sorry, I just cannot possibly tell you what it was - too too too graphic and inappropriate. Despite my protests and attempts at interruption, she fired away. I cowered, trying to avoid guilt by association.

What amazed me though was how many people were eager to discuss it in great detail, while I, not exactly an easily offended person, covered my ears and eyes and had to take an extended trip to the bathroom. Now, of course, you have to take into account, 1. Haley, who is beautiful and single and has smooched at least two of the regulars and the bar owner's son. And 2. We were two of three women in the bar that night (the third being the 60sish fabulous bar owner, Jan, who we LOVE. Jan is probably single but looking for a very specific kind of sugar daddy that does not frequent her watering hole. As for me, they are all well aware that I am and have always been, since we've been going there, off the market. We know this, because as soon as I walk into the bar without Kevin, the first thing they say to me is "Where's Kevin?" I enjoy this. They all think I am a very benevolent wife because I "let" Kevin go to the hockey games without me and I don't sit at home and sulk, waiting to "bitch him out" when he gets home. It amuses and sort of saddens me that this is a reality for so many people.

So, Haley is pretty much the only eligible bachelorette in the room, and I am sure the guys wanted her attention, so she could have asked what 1 plus 1 was and they would have all flocked to her side to give her their take on the subject.

If you, as I did, kind of took a step back, physically and mentally, and watched these people, men, falling all over themselves, offering their answers, desperately trying to be witty or clever to catch her attention, you would see a taller and more alcohol-induced version of what I see every day on the playground at work. They clamber around whoever has the ball. They ask for it, they beg for it, they try to steal it, they barter for it, make promises, some true and sincere, some empty.

Haley must have a really great, um, ball.

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