These girls I worked with were so cool. Some of them were in high school, and had that fun laugh that only high school girls seem capable of, something almost performative it's so loud and unrestrained, but yet totatlly pure and from somewhere deep down, deep down good. Sadly though, by the end of the day, I had been moved to a different section, a more boring section, where old women sat with pictures of their kids all over their desks and bottle of Purel next to their keyboards. All of the people I sat with earlier were very stunned by my being moved, since some of them had applied to work over there a few times, and since I was just a temporary worker. I would have glady traded with any of them to continue sitting in the naughty section where we were told to use "inside voices" so many times, where supervisors were made fun of with glee, and oh, I am so going to miss that section. But whatever, my new desk has a computer with internet access so I can hopefully play around online all day. This job is so easy and I wish so much that I would have applied at the temp agency earlier so I could have been doing this all summer, saying lingo to people that knew what I was talking about. Saying that their patient was eligible for "straight title 19, A and B medicare, no private insurance." The easy motherfucking life.
I came home from work, ate some, read some, and took a long nap, went bowling with Bonnie and the PIRGers, bowled a 125, ate a really good cheeseburger, and heard another Smashing Pumpkins song. After I was moved to the boring section at work, I had lots of bored time, where I could no longer joke around with the high school girls, hear this one teach this white girl how to talk cool - saying silly Snoop words ending in -hizzy. Ex. For the schizzy off the hizzy. Yeah, so during my exile from the world of fun and laughter, I had lots of time to daydream, and I daydreamed so much about Giancarlo, thinking about how much I wanted to have sex with him again, and could not wait to call him soon to try to hang out with him. He said that he could hang out on Thursday for sure the last time I talked to him, I think because he has a boyfriend, and hopefully he still can because I want some motherfucking fun sex real fucking soon.
A dialogue between the white girl who was learning how to talk "cool", Katie, and myself:
Katie: Hey, you have some up-dog on your cheek there.
Me: What? What's "up-dog"?
Kaite: Nothing much, what's up with you dawg?
Katie and I erupt into wild laughter, only to be told to use "inside voices" by a supervisor, which only made us laugh more, and allowed us to make fun of her as soon as she left.