Friday, September 11, 2009

STIFLING MY KILLER INSTINCT

I'm back in the Zone.

Trust me, it wasn't easy. Particularly when, after I unexpectedly get the day off, I rush to Borders at 4:00, buy my coffee, open my lap top, plug in my flash drive, flex my fingers, and--

Ditzy chick at the next table says (LOUDLY) into her cell phone: "Well, yanno, I guess I'm just not ready for a committment...but I mean, yanno, how long does it take for you to, yanno, knooowww?"

--Annoyed, but hey, at least she's speaking English. It might be interesting, future fodder or whatever--

"I  mean, I haven't really mad a decision yet, but we're, like, soooo compatible--" (insert you know what and leave little to the imagination) "--omigod, I mean, yanno, blah, blah, blah..."

--Any initial sliver of amusement vanishes. Still, I don't own the place (yet). Plus her back is to me so it's not like I can GLARE or FEIGN ENOUGH MORBID INTEREST to compel her to lower her voice--

"Blah blah blaaaaaaaaah bad omigod, like, yanno blah blah blah..."

--OK. You can shut up now--

"Blahhhh blahblahblahhh..."

--I get up and walk around the store. "Eclipse" is in paperback, $12.99. Mmm, maybe some Jelly Bellies--

Back at the table: "Blah, blah, yanno, I mean, like totally blah, blah, and BLAH BLAH BLAH!"

--I stare at the screen, hating this girl. And hating, in general, people who talk on the cell phones in public places only because they tend to speak much louder than usual, the way folks in the olden days used to shout into those crank telephones. Personally, if I need to make a call at Borders, I take it outside--

"Omigod, I'm-blathering-about-crap-that-nobody-cares-about-and-it's-personal-as-all-hell-and-I'm sharing-it-with-the-whole-cafe-and-driving-people-nuts-and-I-don't-care-because-I'm-a-rude-self-centered-twit-who-rules-the-universe-and-all-these-totally-inane-details-about-my-crappy-lovelife-undoubtedly-fascinate-everyone-around-me-blahblah..."

--I stand up, pick up my lap top, and crash it down hard over her head.

Heh. Kidding.

After 30 minutes--THIRTY FREAKIN' MINUTES--Ditzy Chick snaps her cell shut and breezes out of the cafe.

Remember pea shooters?

Anyway, after that I got back into the groove and revised (re-WROTE) till 9 p.m.

Things are looking up. :)

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