Tuesday, September 25, 2007

I Fainted in The Middle of a Restaurant. Sympathy?

Wink, Wink...

That’s pretty much the gist of the story. Here I am at OTTO waiting for my table, drinking no more than a glass of wine, blabbing on and on as I often do, and then all of the sudden I faint. The Skeeze caught me, which was to be expected because he’s one of those friends that’s, you know, always there when you fall. (That’s a saying, right? Because I’ve made it a goal to use more clichés.). That reminds me; I should put him as my emergency contact on those forms at work from now on.

Possible Reasons for me Passing Out (In order of Probability):

  • Overworked – seven days a week
  • Received Bad News that Day – I internalize everything so I guess this would make sense. The mental affecting the physical and so forth.
  • Pregnant – Could be, but doubt it. If so, I’ve decided I’m at the age where it wouldn’t be necessary to kill it.
  • Girl in Bathroom – See details below.

Prior to fainting, I went into the small little bathroom and got stared down by some chick. I’d asked her if she was waiting to use the restroom, and she gave me a look as if to say, “Obviously.” But you never know in that bathroom—she could have been waiting to use the sink.

From the time she went into the stall until the time she came out, these are the things that I figured she was thinking:

  • “Umm, why the hell else would I be standing here if not to use the bathroom?” (As discussed, to use the sink)
  • “This girl looks like shit. I can’t believe she’s out in public.”
  • “Nice shirt, is she pregnant? I wish I could get pregnant but I can’t. My poor uterus/ovaries.” (I don't know why I thought she might be thinking this, but it seemed to make sense at the time.)
  • “She should wear her hair down.”
After all of this, I decided that if she wanted to take it outside, I’d be down. Just say the word. Bitch.

When she came out, she looked at me again and said:

“I like your necklace. I just bought a similar one. Who’s the designer?”

Avon, I think.”

“Oh, you should tell people you got it in France because this lady makes similar pendants.”

“What’s wrong with Avon?”

Now that I think about it, I’m pretty convinced she’s to blame for me having fainted. Either way, I've been on a massive sympathy campaign since. People feel very sorry for me. And why shouldn't they?

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