Guys who don't get it

An open letter to guys at bars.

Dear Guys at Bars,

Just because I let you buy me a drink, it does not mean I want to give you my phone number. You don't need it because I don't plan on ever seeing you again. If I do give you my phone number, it's because I'm too nice to say no -- you just bought me a drink. Also, if I do happen to give the my real phone number, it's only because of stupid cell phones and the likelihood of you calling my phone right there on the spot so I can "save yours too." P.S. I'm not and I don't.

Second, if you do end up with my real phone number and you call me, and I don't pick up, please don't call again. You look stupid. Especially those who leave a message and I don't call you back. Also, don't text me all the time either. You're clogging up my inbox and it's not like I'm going to text you back.

Third, no, I do not want to meet up for dinner next time you're in town. You live out of town?! How lucky could I be! Now I don't have to worry about accidentally seeing you around and having to play nice. Now go back home like a good boy and check your bank account to make sure you didn't overdraw it with all those expensive drinks you bought.

Fourth, do not call me all kinds of early the next morning to "say hi." Do not call me early -- you're not and will never be on my good morning list. And don't call me to say hi. I said all I had to say when I thanked you for the drink.

And last, no my friends don't want to hook up with your friends either. It was very convenient that we all got free drinks out of the deal, but we were just being nice so we could save a little money. We're all a little broke her (damn gas prices), and we're not above smiling and flirting a little for a free drink (or three).

Thanks for the drink,
--me

P.S. I know you made a point to remember my name and all, but I have no idea what yours is. Thanks for the free drink.

The truck that ran me over

Maybe I should call the cops.

I didn't see it coming and I didn't feel it happen. I have no idea what it looked like, or when it occurred. But I'm pretty sure a truck ran me over.

I woke up this morning awful. I don't understand... I was fine yesterday. Fabulous even. And then this morning, POW! Like a Mack truck just plowed into me while I was sleeping.

In other news: I want a hedgehog.

Publix buy-1-get-1-free sales

You'd think it would be a good thing -- sales at the grocery store. Yay! I get to save money.

Unless you foolishly buy some coffee you don't normally drink, because it's the deal of the week. I see some coffee, it's a decent brand (Eight 'O Clock coffee is decent, right?), so I grab up two real quick. Ooh! They even have French Vanilla flavor. This sale was meant for me.

And then I get home and start putting away the groceries. And realize my budget-happy butt bought whole bean coffee.

A.) I do not have a coffee grinder.
B.) Even if I did, I'd probably hurt myself trying to use it in the morning before actually having any coffee.

So now I have to go back to the store, return the crappy bargain and get something else. You'd think I would have learned my lesson after the last coffee debacle. Oh well, maybe next time.

I heart you Don Fransisco coffee.

It doesn't work. Deal with it.

So I'm at the gym on the treadmill, and the one next to me doesn't work. I know this because approximately 148 people have tried to use it and then gotten off seconds later. After the first few people did it, I realized it was broken and told the next few people as soon as they jumped on, but I quickly got tired of being Miss Considerate Gym Person and started ignoring the dummies.

Because seriously? You just watched someone get right off. Or two people get right off. Chances are, something's wrong with it. Which is slightly comical, but the part that really gets me is...

Just how long people will actually stay on the damn thing trying to make it work. They press the Start button. Nothing. They press the "up" button to increase the speed. Nothing. They they press it again. And again. And then like 20 more times.

It doesn't work! Give up! Do they think that, suddenly, after 30 or 40 tries, the treadmill is just going to realize it's supposed to start and magically begin moving? Probably not.

So since I stopped being Miss Nicey, I started making fun of these people in my head. I wondered how many chances the average person would give the busted machine. And the results of my extremely unscientific observational study were ridiculous. The average dummy tried to press "start" and "up" about 30 times. With increasing intensity, like pressing it harder would make it obey more.

And 30 is the average. Which means that some of these brain surgeons actually gave the thing like 50 attempts. Nice job, people.