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Of all the places I expected to wind up after the interview.  The bartenders have chosen the "slow jam" radio station and the guy next to me is singing along to R. Kelly.  I found myself singing along, too, softly and sweetly to some shitty love song I'd usually roll my eyes at.  The server from the Olive Garden across the street just walked in.  He's a regular.  He's also an alcoholic.  But that's ok.  We've all got our something.  He's looking at me, and he probably recognizes me from one of our drunken conversations about the meaning of things.  Then again, he was especially drunk, so he might not remember.  The guy next to me, R. Kelly, he said to me, "I like your shoes."

I'm wearing sensible and safe footwear following a job interview.  I don't even like my shoes.  "No you don't, " I replied.  He looked at them again, catching a glimpse of thigh as I shifted in my seat.  After examining more than the shoes, he said, "You're right.  I don't like them."  He then took the seat next to me at the bar and said, "I'm John."

I laughed.  "Well, we're getting off on the right foot.," I scoff, sipping on my beer.

Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
wingshuttle
Jan. 19th, 2011 09:24 pm (UTC)
hahaha... this is hilarious. That's how it is.
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )