Things I overheard #11

This is a very special edition of Things I Overheard. People, your children are perverted. The days of innocent and pure minds are long gone.

I am sitting at Starbucks, killing some time before my appointment with my hair stylist. There are two elementary school-aged girls sitting behind me; no older than 10, I'd say. One of the girls is asking the other riddles -- "I bark. I am man's best friend. What am I?"

But one of the riddles rocked me to my core.

"What pops easily?"

Being the dirty boy I am, I immediately thought the following: Virginity *chuckle*

Without missing a beat, however, the girl quickly answered:

"A cherry."

The two girls start giggling.

"You didn't let me finish... *giggle*... It's filled with helium."

"Oh. A Balloon." *giggle*

My jaw hit the table. I was in a state of shock. Did I actually just hear a little girl make a dirty joke?

What the hell are parents letting their kids do these days!? What kind of exposure are they getting that their minds would wander to the sexual?

I shudder to think how any child of mine would turn out! My poor, poor imaginary offspring.

Cheers,

- R

Dirty Minds

"Fill your desire for something long, juicy and flame-grilled with the NEW BK SUPER SEVEN INCHER. Yearn for more after you taste the mind-blowing burger that comes with a single beef patty, topped with American cheese, crispy onions and the A.1. Thick & Hearty Steak Sauce." (Burger King)



I know I have a filthy mind and am usually the one to take things straight to the gutter, but......

Wow. Just wow.

Oh, ok. I admit it. I wish I had come up with this. It's too funny. The possibilities are endless: "So I was downing a 7-incher last night..." "Guess what I had in my mouth the other day..." "Think I could fit the whole thing in my mouth..." "Mmm... *cough* *gag* *cough*"

Hahahaha...

Cheers,

- R

It's been a while

I have not written a post in quite some time. So let me get you up-to-date....

I work practically every day. On my day off (because I get one a week) I will either sleep/veg out or hang with Mariana. I've also been using my days off to review shows for various papers. I'll be covering several shows for the Orange County Register. The first one is Saturday ("Late Night Catechism" -- should be really fun), to which I will be taking Mariana along. Actually, she'll be accompanying me to all those shows. Yay for press tickets!

And that's my life in a nutshell. Not bloody exciting is it? Ok. Ok. The nights I get to be a theatre critic are pretty cool.

Oh, and one interesting thing has happened. I had lunch with my boss. It wasn't planned. He just saw me waiting in line at Wahoo's and decided to eat there too. I had a magazine with me (usually the latest issue of The New Yorker, but it was the newest Esquire this time), but decided to be social and invite him to join me. He did, and it was not at all awkward. He got to know me on a personal level, which is never a bad thing. I told him about my academic life, my life in London, my career goals, and how I am freelancing.

Though I occasionally can't face him due to my tendency to make stupid mistakes, my boss is truly a nice guy. He expects you to do your job correctly, but is otherwise a rather chill dude.

So that pretty much wraps up the update. Not all that interesting. I've become a very boring man since starting this all-consuming full-time job. At least the money's good.

Hope your life is much more fun than mine. And if it is, think of me slaving away in the shoe department of Nordstrom's. When you're happy and carefree, think of me climbing up and down stairs over and over and over again for 8 hours.

Cheers,

- R

The feline in me

I've come to the conclusion that I am a cat. At least when it comes to girls.

Something catches a cat's attention. The cat is very interested in said thing. Then the cat becomes bored and moves on. I'm the same way.

A girl catches my eye. I'll flirt. Maybe I'll pursue something. Maybe I'll even enter into a relationship with her. But sooner or later I get bored.

I can't help it. It makes me sound like an ass, but I'm not a bad guy. I'm not a womanizer in any way. I simply have a short attention span. I get bored with younger girls (I realize this time and time again, and yet I never learn). I get bored with purely physical relationships (my mind needs attention too). I get bored when things get "comfortable."

A girl has to be amazing to really keep my interest. I need to be intellectually stimulated and she has to have a sense of humor. I realized, however, that it takes more than just having a great sense of humor. She needs to make me laugh as well. It's exhausting and rather tedious having to be the entertainer all the time.

"So why this confession?" you may be asking yourself.

My friend Leya and I were discussing our current crushes (wow... I haven't used the word "crush" since grade school). I mentioned this girl that has caught my eye. And she warned me: "Remember, Roberto. Younger girls don't keep your interest. You need to be intellectually stimulated."

After her warning I started looking at her in a different light. I immediately started losing interest. I started noticing faults. I realized she doesn't speak much. That's not a good sign.

We'll see if my interest holds.

I wonder if I'll ever find that one girl that will knock me off my feet. It's not that I am dreaming of the "perfect girl." I just feel that it will take the dream girl to make me start believing in love.

So to all of you who aren't like me, I salute you. Perhaps one day I too will know the happiness you feel or have felt.

Cheers,

- R

Take my breath away

This story started off as a Things I Overheard post, but Fate had other things in mind for me.

I was walking to work when I happened to pass an older couple with a younger man. I naturally assumed him to be their 30 year old son. They were discussing what to have for dinner that night.

"Well, there are plenty of options. We could have Italian, Mexican, French..."

"I don't even know what French food is!"

Me being the elitist foodie that I am (much like Anthony Bourdain reveals in his new book, I too was born elitist), I gasped from the shock of his confession. Not. Know. What. French. Food. Is?

Unfortunately, I also happened to be chewing gum at this point. So when I dramatically gasped I also sucked in my wad of spearmint gum. I was now literally gasping for air.

They kept walking. I was choking.

So this is how I'm going to go, I thought to myself while trying to hack up my minty adversary.

I eventually managed to dislodge the gum from my throat. I walked into work a little sweaty, a little out of breath, and happy to be alive.

The moral of the story: Being snob can be all fun and games until someone starts choking.

Cheers,

- R

Decisions, decisions.

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am one of the (if not the) most indecisive people they know.

Hamlet had nothing on me. He said "to be or not to be" and then moved on. If that was my soliloquy, it would have gone a little something like this....

"To be or not to be? Hmmm... to be? Not to be? Umm... To be. Yeah. To be. No. Not to be. Or to be? To be or not to be? To be or not to be? Oh, damn it all! Who's got a coin?"

It all stems from my overwhelming fear of failure. I so hate to make the wrong decision. Even when it comes to trivial things like wearing a blue shirt or a grey shirt. Which argyle socks to wear that day. I always pack for a trip the night before, but I spend the day (or occasionally days) making a list of every last thing I will pack. It doesn't matter if I am just packing a day bag. I will go over every possibility until I am adequately satisfied (because I am never completely satisfied) with my decisions.

And don't even get me started on my issues with ordering food or drinks. I have been known to just order what someone else orders, even if it's the complete stranger waiting in line in front of me. I always order last because I am never 100% sure of what I want. And when I receive my food or beverage I realize what I really wanted to order was something else. Or wish I had ordered what my companion ordered.

My best friend doesn't let me get away with it. "I'll have the same," I tell the waiter. "No, he won't," she'll quickly add. She will then make me order something different or order for me. I always keep my fingers crossed that she will order for me because a) she has excellent taste, and b) she takes the pressure off of me.

Perhaps one day I'll overcome this damn annoyance. Old dogs can learn new tricks, right? Right?

Cheers,

- R