Well, I spoke too soon…

…after a week of not working, the internet worked this morning. Naturally I was suspicious as the last phone call I had with Promptel– aka utter useless bastards – the night before was the internet would not work until someone came out to fix it. So natch when I got home from work, it was not working. I was not happy but as I had an appointment with a tech tomorrow arvo – which I had confirmed 4 times today – I thought I would put up with the crap interim dial up service I stamped me feet to get. Fancy my surprise – translation anger -when I rang up for the 5th check of the appointment and it had disappeared off the system due to a computer glitch. No one knows why and its ‘one of those things’. I spoke to the team leader there who I now know very well. I said to him “I worked for Promptel for 13 and a half years. They tried to drive me insane in that time but they never succeeded. Are they trying to do it now for old time sake?” He laughed. So I now have an appointment for a tech to come out Friday arvo. The team leader said he will ring and confirm the appointment with me tomorrow and Friday. I told him I would also be ringing and confirming as well. He said he ‘expected that’. You have to laugh as screaming is making me hoarse.

On to other things…I saw the most dazzling man today…he quite took my breath away. Not handsome in the conventional manner but dead set sexy. Isn’t weird how men like that cross your path and make you catch you breath? I got my breath back again because I needed it and dazzling men are unfortunately not in my future.

So…I was in the car at the traffic lights this morning. The light was red and I stretched my arms and hands up and then down to my shoulders as I waited. No big deal huh? Stretching is good. Wrong. I wear thumb rings – they both almost cover my thumbs and they have these intricate twirly patterns (leaves/flowers) on them. I got one of those twirly bits snagged in the back of my shirt. Okay so I am up at the lights that have just turned green, running late and I have to turn a corner but my left arm is elbow up with the thumb ring holding it there and I cannot release it without tearing the shirt. Yes, perfect. Car horns are beeping me…care factor nil…but I have to get to work. What did I do? Why I yanked the shirt off over my head and drove in my bra. Yes, a few people looked at me mighty strangely because not many women drive in just a bra and with a shirt attached to one hand on the steering wheel…try it sometime. I eventually got to stop long enough at a level train crossing when the boom gates came down as the train rushed by. A truck driver watched, with a grin on his face, beats horror I guess, as I extricated the ring from the fabric and managed to get my shirt on. He beeped the air horn on his truck at me in salute. Amazing, Grace.

This leads me to cleavage…yes, it has been an interesting day – bras, now cleavage…and there’s more. I was filing – a totally mind numbing job which allows me to think what my characters will do in a chapter – and yes, maybe I should have been paying attention to the whole alphabetical thing but anyone can do that – when I straightened up from bending over a filing drawer and I saw a male colleague look at me guiltily. Why? He felt the need to apologise for looking at my cleavage. Now, I have cleavage to burn but I am not one to put it on display (unless I want something) and never at work. I expect a man would glance at cleavage. If it was more than a glance without permission he would need to have his eyes poked out. I don’t encourage it but men are men. It got me thinking about what women stare at when it comes to men. No, I’m not into physical perfection in a man. I like quirky men with street smarts and I look at their eyes first …but then, I have to admit I do stray down and look at a man’s thighs. There is something about a man’s thighs that gets me wondering. Maybe it’s the sense of power – not sure. I don’t like Rugby League but I do like those players in those shorts. The other night I was at someone’s home when rugby came on and I went into the non sport zone as I do. I snapped out of it when the announcer indicated a player had his shorts ripped off. Instantly my eyes were glues to the TV, as you do. So, the whole glancing and wondering thing is not just men is it? Sure, some of them are just perverts but many just look because that’s what the opposite sex does. Now tell me, what part of the male anatomy will you have a glance or two at? Or are you too pure to look or admit it? Hmmm?

Speaking of male anatomy… I used to work at this government department – I had to leave as there were way too many rules for me. I spent a great deal of time in the ‘cold room’. This was a room you were asked to go to when they wanted to ‘talk’ to you. Usually it was about things like ‘why can’t you follow the bloody rules, Amarinda?’ I spent a lot of time in the cold room. I was, and still am, bad, bad, bad. People I am still friendly with at that old job tell me no one seems to go in there and they miss the drama of me getting called in. Yes, I am dramatic and yes rule breakers often get the ‘call’. Anyway, generally there were 2 male managers who would chastise me for whatever my latest evil deed was – something like refusing to be on a
kitchen cleaning roster as I don’t use the kitchen – terrible deeds like that. Anyway they would always sit across from me with their legs wide open in that classic male dominant way that lets me know they have a penis and for some reason I must tremble at the power of it. Yeah right. I of course would stare at that bulge in their trousers so intently that they would generally cross their legs and their words became less powerful as their penis was no longer in charge of the situation. Strange little men. How is that supposed to intimidate any woman for god sake? Get a grip boys. If you want to intimidate me, use your brain.

So, that was my day…how about you – what made you laugh or want to scream?

If you are at RT look for Anny and Kelly. They will be the ones dancing on table tops with lamp shades on their heads. They are two pot screamers (2 drinks then drunk) apparently.

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?