We were just reading people’s works aloud in class today and pointing out ways to improve them, what we liked about them, etc…. Then we ran out of time, and The Third Wilson Brother was handing them all back to us, and suddenly he looked at me and said, “Oh, Ginny! I wanted to read one of yours,” so he put the Monica perspective up there and said, with this big enthusiastic smile, “This is a story. I’m eager to know how this turns out.”
Like I said, of course the entire class knows that it’s completely true, and everybody’s pretty eager to know what’s going to happen. So The Third Wilson Brother’s reading this, and then he interrupts himself and says, a delighted grin on his face, “I love what these two girls did to this guy,” and I laughed, and he said, “Is he still calling?”
I explained that the last time he’d called was Sunday, and expressed my hope that that meant it was over.
The Third Wilson Brother considers me for a moment, amused, and says, “You know what’ll be freaky, is when he shows up here on campus, right outside this classroom.”
Well, for one thing, even though the guy isn’t going to school this semester, for some reason he’s been showing up on campus just about every other day—Kristen keeps calling me and saying, “Mark stopped by my class today!” What the hell? Who does that?
So I just said, “Oh, Goooooddd….”
The Third Wilson Brother (I really need a better nickname) said, “Don’t worry, Ginny…we will all beat him up for you.”
I was instantly reminded of that movie I watched last week, The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer, and how at random moments, when Shirley Temple gazed at Cary Grant, there was a white light shining over him and he was wearing a suit of armor.
Work’s not so bad; I just miss having two days off per week. I feel like all of my time (when I’m not procrastinating by updating this thing) is spent with homework. Not that most of it isn’t enjoyable or at least easy…just that I don’t have a life anymore, and it bothers me. Last year, when I didn’t have to work Friday, I was very well disciplined; Friday was my homework day, and it was all I did all day long; and then I could spend Saturday chilling in whatever way I desired. Now when getting up in the morning, after getting a shower, I do homework; I go to school; I come home and do homework; I go to work; I come home and do homework; I sleep. The weekend is spent entirely in homework (because the weekend consists of Saturday and nothing more).
But while I still miss Tinny, of course, I do now at least get along quite well with the other three servers. Even the one who seemed evil at first—I think she was just shy. We have more in common than I would have assumed. She’s a Potterhead. Among other things. And Adrianna actually knows who Danny Elfman is. And Sandra…oh, here’s an interesting story….
Tonight I passed Sandra something—a bucket of soapy water, I think, and she said, “Thanks…uh…Ginny,” and I assumed she was just distracted, but then she said, “You know, you really remind me of this woman I used to work with. You look just like her! Just exactly like her; she could have been your mom. So now I always want to call you Leslie.”
I’m like, “HUH!?” Haha.
Not my mom, though. Somebody who worked with Sandra at Blue Cross twenty years ago. WEIRD!
Of course, I’m used to being called Leslie by people who know my mom; I’ve gotten that my entire life.
Oddly, though, I can also remember being called Leslie by a few people I know never met her; I remember asking her if she knew these people, and she didn’t.
Maybe there’s this random Leslie floating around out there who looks exactly like me and is bumping into people who will one day know me so that they’ll get me confused with her.
Er…something like that.
Oh, remember that other evil girl, in The Third Wilson Brother’s class? She sits by herself, against the wall, and is quiet? I decided to attempt to befriend her.
So when I was walking out of the class, I ended up not having to—she actually approached me and said, “Hey, nice bag.”
We have the same bag, which I had actually noticed on the first day—she just has the backpack style, rather than the over-the-shoulder.
So then we just started discussing random things, and she seems like quite a nice person, really, and she smiled.
I had a really freaky dream yesterday morning; all these people kept coming up to me and repeating the words, “We have no homework.” I must have heard it at least thirty times in a row. I’m serious, this was weird. I think I may have been chanting it in my sleep, too, because I finally woke up when a Hispanic person came up to me and said, “No tengamos—” and I woke up saying the word, “tengamos”.
It was so weird, though; I think it took places in other locations than just the café, but all these people were coming through my line and saying those words—all these sorority/frat kids, and they’re creepy enough as it is. Weird, I tell you.
I have to do my homework now.