Thursday, October 23, 2008

Compassion WIthout Works...

... is dead.


In other news, I've been kind of grumpy today, and when I went to get A&W (fast food on an upset stomach, I know...) this evening, I almost snapped at the drive-thru guy. It went something like this:
Drive-Thru Guy: How are you today?

Me: Fine.

Drive-Thru Guy: What can I get for you?

Me: I'll have the corn dog nugget combo, please.

Drive-Thru Guy: Ten piece or five piece?

Me: Five.

Drive-Thru Guy: What to drink?

Me: Sprite.

Drive-Thru Guy: Sierra Mist okay?

Me: Yup.

Drive-Thru Guy: What else can I get for you?

Me: That should do it.

Drive-Thru Guy: That's all?!

Me: [eyes rolling] Yup.

Drive-Thru Guy: Are you sure you don't want a cookie?

Me: Yup.

Drive-Thru Guy: Are you SURE you don't want a **COOKIE** ??!

Me (in a "this better be the last time" kind of tone] : YUP!

Drive-Thru Guy: Okay... your total is...

This is how it almost went:
...

Drive-Thru Guy: That's all?!

Me: [eyes rolling] Yup.

Drive-Thru Guy: Are you sure you don't want a cookie?

Me: Yup.

Drive-Thru Guy: Are you SURE you don't want a **COOKIE** ??!

Me: I'm not sure I want to get anything here, actually! [car screeches racket-ly away]

I'm glad I held my composure (mostly); the kid was just trying to do his job well. In fact, if I weren't feeling so crummy, I probably would have bantered with him for a little bit; there was nobody waiting behind me... I could have maybe even gotten a free cookie out of it.

I remember a couple years ago when I used to get free dessert quite often at restaurants... I don't know why... I was kind of going through a flirty stage. But still, I've never considered myself particularly attractive -- although, I was rather adorable then... flirty and adorable... a good combination for free chocolate, apparently.

As I think about it, I would rather be adorable than hot/attractive... or is that just what people who aren't hot/attractive say to make themselves feel better?

Actually, in a way, I sort of wish I were hot/attractive -- I don't know if I'm still a part of the 'moho' crowd, but if so, a "mohotty" as the Original Mohomie would say (that is the term you [or your roommate] coined, n'est-ce pas ?)... anyway, I would be a model -- to get paid to eat healthily and sculpt my body to the state of a greek god would be... acceptable.

I'm hoping Annaleigh wins this cycle of America's Next Top Model. I would totally marry her; in fact, if I do ever marry a girl, she'll be just like Annaleigh... maybe a little shorter.

Anyway, I think I have a fever... and that's kind of rare for me. My average body temperature is 97.2 degrees Fahrenheit. I really like that about myself, for some reason.

My clavicle started to pop just the other month. I was quite excited. A few years ago, my sister told me that hers popped -- as did some [if not all] of my other siblings. I was feeling... well, like a sixteen year-old girl who has yet to have her first period may feel. Although, I can't say what that would feel like. Granted, my armpits were hairless all throughout highschool. If you ever meet me in person, ask to see my driver's license picture (me at 16)... I think it's pretty funny (I'll just say that I'm barely starting to look like I'm at least 16).

You know, I kind of don't like that about me, how young I look. It's been bothering me lately. Do they have age-adding cream? You know, stuff that wrinkles you up to make you look older... wait, doesn't tanning do that? I should tan. I am rather white.

I'm frankly not worried about the whole cancer thing... so I won't live to my hundreds when I'll need to be diapered and wheelchaired around... big whoop... in fact, GOOD RIDDANCE!

I have instructed my family that, if I ever need to be diapered, they should simply shoot me. I have also told them that they should howl like sad wolves as my casket is lowered into the ground.

I don't quite understand that desire... I hate dogs. I hate animals. Well, I don't hate them, I just don't love them. It still hurts me to see animals suffer. Like, once, I saw a family of ducks crossing the freeway. I stopped to let them cross, but a big ol' pickup truck zoomed right by be and hit the parents and some of the children, their bodies flinging helplessly askew... I gasped and even cried a little...

Then there was this one time time that I saw a half-smooshed cat on the road, twitching and fighting for life... it was extremely heart-wrenching: the middle was smashed, so only its back legs, head, and one of its front legs were whole... the front leg batting the air as if to say, "Ooooouch... heeeelp!"

And although I felt an immense amount of sympathy for this animal (again, I don't even like animals), my compassion was dead... because I couldn't do anything about it -- OOOh, see how I brought it back to the original point of the post... that's talent, I tell you what!

1 comment:

  1. You're one sick puppy. You know that, right?

    Ha, mohottie. I think you're referring to my MoHot post? Post-It Boy calls himself a MoHottie in the comments. I can't remember WHO the "mohot" mohomie was...but I think I remember who said it, but their anonymity shall be maintained.

    Flirting for dessert...I should try that. Oh crap, I keep forgetting I'm not the "adorable" type. Blast. Don't hate your youthful glow. Work it while you got it, I say.

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