One day, I will have a firm grasp on the Cockney dialect and how to use it properly. And I hope that one day comes before an audition next weekend where I have to use said dialect. In the meantime, I’ll just continue to watch YouTube videos on “how to speak with a Cockney dialect” and hope for the best.
Today was an interesting one, to say the least. I had work, as usual. Some days, I’m very chipper walking into my place of employment, and other days, I want to burn it down. Today was one of those, “I’m okay with being here, but I wouldn’t mind going home on account of an accidental fire.” One thing that did make me smile from ear to ear? Restocked Stevia.
You guys, Stevia is the absolute shit. Have you ever had it? It’s like sugar, without the sugar. And like Splenda, without the cancer. Also, I swear to all things holy and good that if ANY of you tell me that ingesting Stevia will prematurely end my life, I will never speak to you again. Choose your battles wisely. What’s it gonna be? Will you be a know-it-all today, or will you be my friend?
Ten minutes into my shift, and three medium iced coffees later, I’m lingering by the register when I hear the door open. “OH GOOD A CUSTOMER ON THIS FINE DAY,” I think to myself. As I turn my head 90 degrees to the right, I see a face that I only see in my dreams.
Just kidding. Also, I take back the “only see in my dreams part” because, hello, creepy.
So this person walks through the door, and the only words that can leave my mouth are “No.”
“No,” I say.
“Yes,” they say.
“No,” I say again.
“Yes…” they say. Again.
My friend Robyn.
Okay, let me explain. When I was still an undergrad, I had this
horrible job on campus really lax and convenient job on campus in the International Office. Basically, I got to answer phones and hang out with non-American babes all day. It was pretty schweet, minus all of those times where I kept screaming, “I AM AN ACTOR. I DO NOT SIT IN DESKS.” I have a minor case of ADD. Or is it ADHD? Whatever.
So, this job was cool, but the people I worked with were even cooler. One was my roommate, one was a graduate student who became a great friend of mine and is know kicking bootay in Austin, one was this hysterical dude who loved gossip as much as I did, and one was my fall-loving, pumpkin ale-drinking, I-can-rock-a-messy-bun-better-than-you-ing friend Robyn.
Robyn would come into my office almost everyday just to “get away”. It was always a nice change of pace. Basically anything to distract me from talking to people on the phone or like, typing anything was a nice change of pace, but this, in particular, was the best! She would always have a funny story to tell, or a new beer suggestion that I had to try (we are both madly obsessed with fall and all things pumpkin). It was love at first sight (the creeper points are just piling on).
Well, as time went on, I graduated and Robyn graduated, and we all went our separate ways. Needless to say, it’s been like, a year and a half or something absurd like that since I’ve seen her. So when I saw her gorgeous blonde self walk through the door, I nearly fainted. I think I hugged her for 45 minutes and said something along the lines of, “These customers can wait.” My bad.
In-between making stupid lattes for these silly people, we caught up, and can I just tell you how much brighter she made my day? I absolutely LOVE my friends. Love them. And I love catching up with people who I haven’t seen in forever. So, Robyn, if you’re reading this, keep kicking ass out there in the world, and remember, New Orleans is that guy that will always be here, so go sleep around with Greece and Italy and Ireland, because I hear they’re really great in bed. 😉
I hope no one under the age of 21 is reading this. If so, uh, you came from a stork, and when you’re old enough to rent a car, I’ll tell you the truth. Or like, your parents will. Why am I volunteering? I don’t even know you.
The rest of the workday went swimmingly, minus the people who don’t tip, which made me take out my aggressions on Facebook, because I’m classy like that. When 4 o’clock rolled around, let’s just say I was ready to leave and dive face first into a pizza.
I ordered Naked pizza, and while it was good, I think I’ll stick with the greasy stuff from now on. As much as I love knowing that I’m eating a whole wheat thin crust pizza topped with daiya cheese, chicken breast, and spinach, it just feels so wrong. You know? Like, where is the lactose? The grease? The WHITE CARB? I also had a glass of Riesling, Twizzlers, and chocolate because das how I roll (down the hall when I can no longer walk because obesity).
Whatever, man. TGIF (Thank God It’s Friday, for those of you not in the ‘acronym know’)
This Friday night will be spent staying in. The wild side of my 22-year-old self is crying on the inside at this, but the grandma side of me is saying, “Wise choice there, youngin’. You have work in the morn” and is apparently Irish, so.
If you’ll excuse me, I have more YouTube videos to watch. I’m educating myself on the “glottal stop” or the “glah-uhl stah” at the present moment.
I’m so lame, but you can’t say I didn’t warn you.
Talk to y’all soon,