"I Left My Favorite Pen in San Francisco..."

Well, dear reader, I survived "The Attack of the Jackals" in San Francisco, which can more aptly be described as "The Purring of the Kittens" with "The Occasional Bark of the One Bull Dog". The barks were not directed at moi. Bull dogs have a very highly developed sense of self-preservation, I hear.

The ride from SFO to the hospital was harrowing. Our driver was a very chatty Chinese immigrant, who could not stop talking about his love for scalpals, once he found out we were outfitting a hospital. What was more discomfiting however, was he drove literally like a fucking bat out of hell, and I am not faint of heart when it comes to driving. My ex-husband (most Old French Whores are divorced, FYI) put a license plate holder on my car that read "Caution: Stunt Driver" and threatened to put large numbers on the doors and hood if I didn't learn to slow down and stick with one lane.

Aaaanyway, the meeting was productive & civil, and the attendees ran the gamut from somewhat curt (the bull dog) to downright enchanting. The weather cooperated nicely by being warm (70 degrees!) and sunny (thanks, weather!) One couldn't have asked for more, and yet...the one truly enchanting, old-school, (old school, not old) gentleman-like meeting attendee (who will henceforth always be referred as The Truly Enchanting Mr. J.) then made the world stand still by asking my snarky & witty co-worker (just the way I like my co-workers!) and I to lunch at a delightfully relaxing and tasty restaurant in The Galleria (naturally) of the Design Center (of course). I highly recommend the place: great food, great service, truly enchanting company. What more can a gal ask for? Alas, ladies, (and homosexual gentlemen) he is spoken for. Sigh.

The Truly Enchanting Mr. J. then dropped us off at City Hall in order to admire the architecture of that grand and stately edifice, and lounge (and possibly score some meth or git us a ho? WTF, SF City Hall???) in the park area across the street, since we had some time to kill before hailing a cab to take us to SFO.

Now I will take the time to wax poetic and wistful about the wisdom of a man's being handsome, charming and extremely well-groomed, if he possibly can be. It takes remarkably little effort fellas, to not be the bald-headed bull dog at the meeting. The bald-headed bull dog is not awful or ugly or terrible, but he is a bald-headed bull dog. (Disclaimer: Some of my favorite people are bald, I am not slighting bald people in any way. Don't leave comments about my not liking bald people. I have dated bald people for fuck's sake!) The bull dog's aim is to let everyone know a.) he is the alpha-dog at this meeting and b.) he does not suffer fools. Good to know. Nevertheless, when one sees the exact opposite in every aspect, save competence (for both of the men I am alluding to are indeed extremely capable indiviuals), sitting literally across the table from each other, the head swivels to and fro and one thinks to oneself, "Hmmm...'Bull dog -or- Truly Enchanting Mr. J.? Bull dog -or- Truly Enchanting Mr. J.? Bull dog -or- Truly Enchanting Mr. J.?' It's kind of a no-brainer. I choose you, Truly Ennchanting Mr. J. I mean, really? Who would you rather go to lunch with. AND the guy wouldn't even let us pay!

Then the beautiful dream of a day had to come to an end and the plane had to land in 46 degrees and raining Seattle. Shit sandwiches. And this morning I arrived at work only to find that the power is out (again!) in our office building (Not my fault! I swear! It happened BEFORE I got to work!) The Seattle City Light people say they expect the power to be restored to our building at 3:57p.m. I am not making this shit up. Not 3:54. Not 3:59. Not 4:06. At 3:57p.m. (Those people are completely full of shit. They cannot explain why only our building ever loses power. How can the entire rest of the city of Seattle be up and running and we are down?) The main reason why this sucks so hard is that I told the bull dog at the hospital that I would have some serious deliverables to him by Wednesday afternoon. And I don't want to experience the bull dog's bark. So I'll be at the office at 6a.m., and will work straight through until the promised documents are indeed deliverable, and not a moment before, which come to think of it is not very Old French Whore-like. At all. But a girl's gotta eat. And buy shoes...So maybe there's something to this bull dog thing after all...I can't imagine The Truly Enchanting Mr. J. biting anyone's head off for any reason.

1 comment:

  1. Ok, the whole post and nothing about a pen. Talk about bait & switch. You had me hanging on the edge of my seat, then, BAM!, it ends with no pen discussion. I feel cheated somehow. What should I expect from an OFW?