Misadventures of the Village Idiot #53

For it to be a relatively quiet weekend, I am sure beat up real bad.  When I woke up this morning I thought I was rejuvenated but now I realise I’m not.

Friday
I had every intention of going to the movies to see Wall Street 2 but I never did make it off the couch.  Instead, I made a plate of pancakes and sat up all night watching foreign films on Netflix.  I think I watched three films.  I started with La Vie en Rose, the story about Edith Piaf, some French singer.  I didn’t think I would like it but I ended up being really into the movie.  I didn’t know she had such a fucked up life.

Then I watched a movie called The Page Turner.  This was also a French film.  It was about a young pianist trying to make it with this critical piano recital.  In the middle of her recital, one of the judges (who is a famous pianist) decides she would rather give autographs than listen to the girl play.  The girl gets distracted by the judge’s lack of attention and she messes up.  Because it was in French, I couldn’t exactly understand what it was she was going after, but it was important enough to ruin her career.  She goes on to have a regular life, becomes an intern at some law firm.  The lead attorney just so happens to be the husband of the judge who fucked her over.  So the girl somehow manages to get close to the family so she can exact her revenge.

It was pretty good.  Around 1AM I started to watch Red Cliff, a Chinese film but I couldn’t get into it.  I do like Chinese film, and I do like martial arts and epic battles, but this one was seriously lacking.  It was just a big ass battle, no drama, no character development.  What was the point of the film?  I don’t know.  Two Chinese generals fighting over something.  Whatever.  It was nowhere near as good as Farewell, My Concubine, a Chinese film that I watched last week.  That one was awesome.  If you’re into foreign film, I highly recommend but leave Red Cliff alone, unless you just want to watch two hours and thirty minutes of people riding around on horses with spears.

Saturday
I got up very early on Saturday to do my shopping.  It was hot as hell and I didn’t feel like being out in the heat.  I spent most of the afternoon lounging on my couch and trying to figure out what the fuck is up with my mail.  I’m either paranoid or someone is fucking with me.

I thought it was someone in the house, but now I think it’s the mailman.  It started with the Netflix.  I’ve been getting Netflix for years and whenever they say they are going to send me a movie, it always arrives on the day they say.  I’ve never had any problems until I moved to this house.  I started noticing the movies were coming late.  Netflix would say Thursday but they don’t arrive till Friday.

I thought it was someone in the house because I was supposed to get a movie on Wednesday and another one on Thursday.  On Wednesday there was no movie.  On Thursday, there were two movies, but the mail obviously looked like it came in two separate stacks.  I don’t know how to describe this, but when the mail comes in, whoever is home, just leaves it up on the mantle.  There were two separate stacks of mail on the mantle.  Why would you do that?

I wrote a nasty note to my housemates and this problem seemed to stop for a few months until last week.  Netflix said Monday but there were no movies on Monday.  Tuesday I came home VERY early.  My movies were on the mantle but the mailman hadn’t come with Tuesday’s mail yet.  So someone had my movies.  The strange thing is that the movies are never open.  So nobody is watching the movies, they are just hanging on to them for some strange reason.

On Saturday, I was supposed to get a movie.  I also had one to send out.  My mailman comes very early.  During the week he comes around 2PM and on Saturday, it’s like 11.  Around 1015, I go put my movie in the mailbox.  At 130, I go to check the mail.  The outgoing mail is still there.  No new mail.  The post office up the street closes at 2, so I walked up the street to put the mail in the box.  I like to keep my movies coming very quickly, back to back.  I want something new everyday.  If I didn’t put the movie in the mail on Saturday, it would go out on Monday and I wouldn’t get anything new until Wednesday.

The mailman never came.  So now I”m kinda confused about this whole situation.  Or maybe I’m just reading too much into the situation.  Maybe I need to do something better with my life than track my Netflix movies.  I don’t know.

Even though I had a race on Sunday morning, I really wanted to go out Saturday night.  I told myself that I would just stay out for a little while.  Not too late.  I had a great time at the club and I had to tear myself away so that I wouldn’t be out all night long.  I got home around 130, but I notice when I party on Saturday nights, I am never tired.  I don’t like going to bed right away.  I want to goof off on Facebook, watch a movie.  I like to stay up until 5 or 6 on Saturday.  I had to force myself to go to sleep and it wasn’t very good sleep.

So when 6AM Sunday morning hit, I was one hundred per cent… fucked (it’s from a song)

Sunday
Me and the Lunkheads were running the Navy 5 Miler at the Pentagon. It was a nice day for a race.  The heat is gone, thank God.  It was slightly raining.  Nice breeze.  No sun.  I thought I was going to be assed out tired from staying out the night before but once I started warming up, I began to feel better.  We were in the parking lot before the race, stretching and goofing off when some woman comes up to us.

This is the most bizarre shit ever.  I didn’t realise that some women could be so desperate.

She is a black woman and she’s like, “Hey, we have to stick together.”  There are some black racers, but not really.  There are Africans, but not regular black people, not a lot.  Sometimes when you see other black runners, it’s either muscle bound dudes or fat black women who join races because they want to lose weight.  You don’t see a lot of “professional” runners.  So this lady is like, “We got to stick together.”

Right away, she is smiling hard core at the Lunkheads.  I see where this is going real quick.  She is trying to get her game on.  More power to her since I am not interested in either one of those clowns.  They are the big brothers I have, but don’t really have and always wanted.  Then the woman says, “Don’t I know you?”  She said it to me and I thought she was just trying to include me in the conversation so she didn’t look desperate (too late).  But the crazy thing is that she did look vaguely familiar.

Turns out we worked together at BWI, but we didn’t really know each other.  We were always on different shifts and different locations.  So she capitalises on this very quickly.  She is also very good at what she does.  She scoped out the Lunkheads right away.  Got their names, job titles, marital status (sort of) and all other pertinent information.  Then I think she tried to figure out which, if any, one of them I was involved with.

She was very good at getting them to notice her.  She mentioned her body no less than 10 times.  She put it out there that she was single.  “If I had a boyfriend, he would be out here running with me!”  It became evident that she is not a runner, per se.  Then we noticed that there were an awful lot of very attractive women, who were all dolled up to run.  This girl had on makeup.  There were several other women who very obviously had boob jobs, running around in the parking lot in skin tight clothes.  It was strange.  I never noticed this before, and apparently neither did the Lunkheads.  I told them that maybe the races are meat markets.  You come out here, there’s bound to be healthy, in shape guys.  You know they have some money because they pay the expensive registration fees.  Military sponsored races always bring out contractors, civilians and military guys so maybe that’s what this is all about.

We do a lot of cheap-o races, but this is one of our first like, professional races and the crowd is totally different.  This wasn’t the type of race where the family comes out to push the kids around in a stroller, and this woman totally let us know that.  She followed us to the start line and ran with us for a little while, but we were faster and ended up at our own paces.

The race was good.  It had hills that kicked my ass, but I kept up a good pace and finished in 50:36, right behind Lunkhead #1.  I still can’t catch him and #2 is still no competition.  So we thought that was the end of her, but she had brought business cards that were stuck in her bra and they were all “warm and soggy from her body.”  Those were her words, not mine.  It became obvious which one she was interested in.  She said, “If I get separated from you guys, I’m just going to look for the one in orange.”

Hahahahah.  She gave him her card.

After we run we always go to breakfast.  We didn’t know any spots around there, but she did.  And they issued her an invite.  We all went to breakfast together, chatting and hanging out.  It was funny to me.  She invited us to a ski event, but mentioned hot tubs and all kinds of other mess.  Sounds like a bacchanalia to me.

Anyway, we all ended up exchanging phone numbers and business cards and such.  I’ll let you know if there’s any developing to this story.

When I got home, I slept my whole life away.  I was so tired.  I got on my couch at 11 and didn’t wake up till 4.  I ate some dinner, went for a walk and then came back home to play a little video games and then went back to sleep at like 830.

I thought I was well-rested but I’m not.  I wish I was back in bed again.

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