Day 3 And Counting
10:01 am
I’m on hold with the Los Angeles Superior Court System. I have a ticket for driving with an expired registration, and if I don’t go to court tomorrow they’re going to suspend my license and throw me in jail. I don’t want to go to jail. But I can’t go to court tomorrow. So I’m sitting here in my office, a half eaten granola bar next to my keyboard and a wannabe Kenny G musician blaring from my speakerphone.
I’m waiting for an operator. There are 92 people ahead of me.
10:25 am
The girl in the office next to me just got into work. The walls between us are thin and I don’t want to be known as the guy who loves Kenny G. Because in the world of office politics that’s almost as bad as the person who keeps ziplocked bags of food in the company fridge with their name written in black sharpy across the front. That guy never gets promoted.
I’m going to Starbucks.
10:54 am
I’ve returned from Starbucks. I have a triple grande latte with the name “Deelan” scribled across the side of my cup. I don’t know why they can’t spell my name right. I’ve never met a “Deelan” but I imagine he’s Hindu. Which makes me think I should be wearing an burka and have a red dot on my forehead.
Wannabe Kenny is still going at it. I don’t believe in Karma but I think this is my punishment for bashing the Los Angeles Court System in my observation yesterday.
There are 37 people ahead of me.
11:12 am
My IT Guy just stopped in. He wants to know if I checked out the latest post on his website, Things I Would Eat — It’s a site devoted to things he would eat out of Jessica Alba’s Ass. He searches all day for pictures of Jessica Alba bent over and then photoshops objects into her ass that he would eat. I should have been an IT guy.
There are 19 people ahead of me.
11:25 am
I’m humming Wannabe Kenny G. and searching Stalkbook for ex-girlfriends who never knew that they went out with me. I can’t take it anymore. I need out. Kenny Killed me.
It’s official, I’m going to Jail.
