GrigioGirl

I was working as “greeter” at a local furniture/carpet store today when a coworker approached me and asked why the exterior door was ajar. I didn’t know why and so I told him just that. He said he had a feeling it was because of the geriatric carpet department. Apparently most of the employees in the carpet department are older and the women freeze while the men are always hot. The compromise is having the door open. I thought “The Geriatric Carpet Department” was a bit too harsh and suggested we refer to them as “The Shady Shag”.

A few minutes later, a Shady Shag walked through the no longer ajar door. He was a man in his late forties/early fifties, nicely dressed, about 4’9″, wearing a horrible hairpiece – aka, Shady Shag. His wife was probably in her early forties, nicely dressed, about 5’3″ – 5’5″ with heels, with long, Crystal Gayle hair. Being a fan of the combover, I tried to figure out a way this dynamic duo could help each other out; more specifically, how she could use her long hair to help him with his Shady Shag. My idea: they could walk much closer together and she could do an extended combover, with her hair covering his head. Then, in addition to being the dynamic duo, they could have a dynamic do.

Later, I was sharing my stories with some coworkers. I asked Dandini (a master escapologist who always manages to magically disappear when we need help in the office) what came to mind when he heard the phrase ‘Shady Shag’. “Sketchy sex. Some kind of sexual activity that just wasn’t on the up and up. Pun intended.” Dandini could work for www.dating.about.com. According to their website, ‘When speaking of relationships, a shag isn’t a hairstyle, it is a gender-neutral reference to having sex.’ Unfortunately, ‘shady’ wasn’t in their glossary.

2 Comments | In: blog | | #

We’ve had a lot of rain lately. So much, OregganO and I ended up going to a matinee the other day instead of hiking. Prior to our matinee experience, we met That’s Not Chinese at the library. That’s Not Chinese was excited to retrieve her hold item, an item I had returned the day prior, When You Are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris. Excellent read. I was excited to pick up my hold, a play script written by The Talent Family. The most exciting part of our library visit was OregganO getting a library card – the membership numbers are growing by leaps and bounds between Alice, That’s Not Chinese and OregganO.. While OreggaO was getting her card, I went downstairs to use the making room room. This was a ‘first’ for me at the library and it kind of felt like I was consummating our relationship. As I went to exit the making room room, the door shut quickly behind me and my flip flop got stuck under the door, acting as a door/people stop. I was stuck. I probably looked a lot like That’s Not Chinese the day she was flailing in the mud (http://grigiogirl.com/2010/05/duck-saver/). A lot of trying to move, yet going nowhere. Luckily, That’s Not Chinese was there to help me out of that sticky situation. Like so many others after consummation, the door wanted to hold me – so sweet.

 With the weather continuing to be a bit drab, OregganO and I thought it might be nice to sit on the stoop and enjoy a little coffee with some Irish cream. Being that I hadn’t been to the grocery store for a while, I didn’t have any coffee. We were just about to walk to a local gas station for a cup of joe when Alice rang. She and Hot Mustard would be home soon and Hot Mustard graciously offered to brew a pot for us – he loves dessert coffee!

I grabbed the play book (just in case they were in the mood to role play) and the Irish cream and we made our way. Alice pulled out some standard coffee cups for us and Hot Mustard felt we deserved an “upgrade”, so he pulled out some “sparkly specials”. While on the stoop we were chatting about various items of interest, to include interior decorating preferences. A couple of our neighbors are strong believers of their religion and have been spending a lot of time remodeling. Alice remarked, “Their big portrait is going to be of Jesus. And they are making him a lot more handsome these days. Maybe she’ll get her rocks off on it.” I suggested Alice watch Hamlet 2 if she hasn’t already.

Hot Mustard topped off our coffee and informed us he often buys coffee at a 7/11 by his house and, by the time he hits the mouth of the canyon, stops at another 7/11 for a hot cup. The cashier never charges him, usually because Hot Mustard has a line ready, “Just got this cup at another 7/11 and it is cold.” We told him he has a good gig going and he replied, “What can I say? I like my coffee how I like my mustard, hot.”

No Comments | In: blog | | #

OregganO and I were at her house chatting and enjoying what $2 can still buy when Alice called and invited us to join her for dinner.

We arrived just as the appetizers were being served and as I began to dish up some tabbooleh Alice informed me, “That’s the kind of garnish I’ll fight you over.” She then said, “Don’t think  we  only invited you because we wanted to be in your blog tonight.” OregganO piped in, “I’m not gonna lie, I saw Skiwi’s picture on facebook and, like him, I wanted to be in your blog, so I called you.” As the evening progressed, I was told, more than once, “That is not going in the blog.” I didn’t at all feel my time with them had any direct ties to my blog. Why would I?

When you hang out with people long enough, certain topics or nouns don’t need to be discussed at length, rather, a simple nod, comment or wink suggests, “Oh. yeah, we know all about this,” or “Oh my God, look at her butt, it is so big.” Midway through dinner, and after one of those moments, Alice  gave me a nod and a wink. I told her I couldn’t wink; cannot physically do it. Poison Sumac was pleased to hear this because she also cannot wink and believes it is due to “an anti-palsy mechanism.”

The word mechanism was and still is  a great segway to discussing waxing. We discussed whether or not one should, in general, and if done, how much. Does it have to be an all or nothing kind of deal? Poison Sumac felt “a little lady garden is OK” and Alice said she once “ did an accidental Brazilian.” I informed them I had also done an accidental Brazilian. I was in France, he was from Brazil. I thought he was French. It was an accident. It was around this time we started to wrap up the meal. I had a little bit of shawarma left and the waiter asked me if I’d like little box. I politely replied, “No thank you, I’ve got one.” OregganO quipped, “We’ve all got one, just depends if you want to take your dinner home in it.”

After dinner we ended up on my stoop, drinking wine and shouting out to passersby. We started with our standard, “holla”, and quickly moved on to Italian, “Hoha hola” (http://grigiogirl.com/2010/04/hoha-hola/). My neighbor joined us for a bit and we talked about the sheer enjoyment one can have on the stoop, watching and shouting out to others. I told her, “You can’t believe the stuff you can see from here. People think my stoop view is obstructed by trees and the like. No way, I can see stuff. Some of these neighbors do some weird shit!” I could see the wheels in her head spinning, so I followed with, “I’ve never seen you do anything. I actually can’t really see you or what goes on at your house.” She immediately looked toward her house and knew that wasn’t true. It was at this time I really wished I could have winked. Instead, I just contorted my face in Alice’s direction and, without saying a word, she knew exactly what I was thinking.

No Comments | In: blog | | #

Last week I worked out, once. I weighed myself this week and it appears I lost one pound. This working out thing is really working out for me. So, I worked out again yesterday. Not wanting to jinx my weight loss luck, I stopped doing the cardio at the same time I did last week, immediately after burning 50 calories.

A little bit later, I attended a class to prepare me for my new job as Beer Cart Girl. Once again, I learned working out pays off. Not only does it help burn the “empty” calories in alcohol, bodies with more muscle can tolerate more alcohol than bodies with lots of fat. In addition, regular drinking increases your tolerance and is like exercise for your liver. Two workouts, one day. Nice.

Tree stopped by after my class and we reminisced about our evening with That’s Not Chinese. Being that I recently converted That’s Not Chinese to the public library, a lot of our discussion was about the benefits of belonging to the elite library group. Tree and I were comparing our music collection and it became apparent we shared the same taste. That’s Not Chinese couldn’t take our bonding moment much longer and told us, “Would you just sleep together and get it over with? God, I remember when we talked about sleeping together.” Tree reminded her they never actually discussed doing this, rather, she suggested it and he said no. That’s Not Chinese kvetched, “But I’m pretty.” Prettiness always “straightens” things out.

Tree and I were in the mood to play, so we headed to one of the local clubs for karaoke. Upon arriving I met several of his friends. One of my favorite friends was Nice Pants Wanna Rub ‘Em. To be honest, I’ve never been so compelled to want to rub someone’s pants – the sheen on them was unbelievable. As we were waiting our turn to take the mic, a Chinese Asian approached center stage. His English was a bit broken as he introduced himself and then he pulled a Susan Boyle. His voice was amazing. I decided I couldn’t really follow him with my current song selection, Loving, Touching, Squeezing by Journey, so I changed it to something a little more simple, Hold On by Wilson Phillips.

Not wanting the night to end, Tree and I accepted Nice Pants Wanna Rub ‘Em’s invitation to join him and his friends for a meal at a 24-hour diner. Nice Pants Wanna Rub ‘Em asked if we had any meal recommendations. I suggested Moons Over My Hammy. He had eaten that a few years back and wasn’t sure he wanted it again. When the waitress came to take our order he brushed his hand across the pictures on the menu and said, “Do you have any recommendations based on these pictures?” She advised him there was a really good picture on the back and she was right, the Western Burger looked and tasted divine.

2 Comments | In: blog | | #

Last day of Italian class: today. What we have learned from class: men who shave will end up in a book written by That’s Not Italian.

Prior to heading to class, Sleepless stopped by. Sleepless is a bombshell, not to be confused with Bombshell McGee. She didn’t have time for wine, because she needed to meet up with “Joe” for some personal training.

Sleepless, like so many others, was excited I was completing the Italian class and assumed, rightly so, that I could complete a full sentence in Italian. Not so. I gave her some details about the class and then shared the story with her about Alice living abroad and meeting an Italian. Neither of them spoke the same verbal language, yet, they were bilingual. Amazing how that works. I told Sleepless that Alice left her amore and traveled around, returning to him weeks later. I asked Alice, “How was this possible, during a time of no cell phones, internet or pigeons?” She informed me they reunited at Piazza d’Spagna (the Square). Sleepless told me we needed a square. I agreed.

Alice made her way to my house for a cup of “coffee” before class. Being it was the last night, we decided vino was a must. Her caffe, basso grasso. Mine, cioccolato blanco. Upon arriving we were told we had an esame (test). I told Alice, “I didn’t sign up for this, let’s go.” We decided to stay and give it our best. As we were talking about the Italian culture, in English, Overachiever mentioned a movie to That’s Not Italian and told her, “It was crazy, I had to learn swear words.” It was at this point that Alice pulled out her word document titled, “Vaffanculo”, and we slyly passed it to Quattro Espressos and Bombshell McGee. They were pleased and we almost got busted for passing notes in class.

As class progressed, That’s Not Italian decided we were going to read, aloud, “Piccola conversazione sul clima.” As the conversation was coming to an end, she instructed Not a Good Drunk Chef to “save a sentence or two for these girls, they’re bored.” We weren’t bored, we were spent. We’d tried and tried to follow the class and the more we tried, the more it felt like we were Jim and Pam from The Office and That’s Not Italian was Michael Scott. When we were discussing our “caffe” with That’s Not Italian she informed us our translation was wrong because some of the words we were using were Spanish. We informed her we were trilingual, in that, we mix Spanish, English and Italian. Alice also mentioned we had thought she would be impressed with our short fat (basso grasso) translation. Apparently not.

After class, Alice and I decided to celebrate at a local restaurant. On the way, she told me she wanted to run errands the other day, thus, asked Hot Mustard if he would like to join her. He stated he would if she would drive. She responded, “Well, what’s the point of you going then?” Very Italian of Alice.

At the ristorante, I informed our cameriere (waiter), that we had just completed our Italian class and would be ordering in Spanish. Alice followed with, “Or Japanese, I get mixed up.” We opted to share an Italian bottle of wine and rosemary flatbread with goat cheese and sundried tomatoes. Alice asked if I wanted to eat the garnish (parsley). I told her she could have it and she replied, in broken English, “I’ve never had a friend that I’ve had a fight with over garnish.” Although this didn’t make me feel unico, it still made me feel speciale. Cin Cin!

2 Comments | In: blog | | #

BeCuz phoned me this morning (morning for me today was around 10) with a desire to eat lunch. I was really glad for this because 1) I was hungry and b) I was exhausted from the 90 minutes of work I had experienced. We went to an Italian restaurant because she wanted a Muffaletto. I informed her it was a Muffaletta and she replied, “Muffaletto, muffaletta, what’s the difference?” Being “schooled” in Italian I informed her there was a big difference  – she could end up with a lot of muff as opposed to the sandwich she really wanted. We placed our order and, sadly, they did not have cannoli as a dessert option. So, while paying at the register, BeCuz decided to buy a Ritter Sport chocolate. The Ritter Joghurt was the first to catch her eye, and resulted in her choosing the marzipan because, as she so eloquently stated, “Joghurt? Damn straight jogging hurts and just for that I’m having the marzipan.”

Later I met up with Fru Fru Pants for our daily specialty beverage. We decided to go for a bit of a ride and, as luck would have it, an “exclamation icon” lit up on my dash. We headed straight to the dealership for consultation. Upon arriving we were advised I had a screw in my tire and it was not repairable. Fru Fru Pants looked at me and said, “Isn’t that always the way it goes? You want the screw and your tire gets it instead.” It appears my message to the universe was not distinct enough, next time I’ll be sure to be more clear.

Fru Fru Pants and I retired to her house for wine, dinner and eyebrow coloring. I reminded her of the time I colored my eyebrows in an attempt to match my hair color (which was a red of sorts) and they turned out bozo the clown red. This wouldn’t be a big deal if I was a SIDS clown, but I was not. I was a girl in a relationship. I told Fru Fru Pants, if there was ever a time in that relationship that I would understand cheating, that would be the time. I wouldn’t hit that bozo shit.

4 Comments | In: blog | | #

Met up with That’s Not Chinese today for slurpees and tree planting. After tackling her tree, not to be confused with Tree – who she tried to tackle, we decided we deserved a nice meal.

We chose to frequent a local fresh fish market. The term “fresh fish” is used loosely when you live inland. To get the party started, I ordered oysters on the half shell, That’s Not Chinese is not a fan of oysters and informed me she almost threw up in her mouth. After that, we ordered the same thing. Our waiter, Ward, was quickly dubbed “Mental Ward”. He was a bit off. It didn’t seem to matter what we ordered, we wouldn’t get it as ordered. Unless, someone else in the restaurant ordered the same thing, at which point he would advise us he was “reminded” that we wanted bay shrimp on our salad or more cheese on our crab stuffed mushrooms.

Tree, to be referred to as Smitten Kitten today, met up with us for after dinner drinks and couldn’t wait to tell us about his new beau, Sho Shy. Smitten Kitten is clearly smitten and wanted to share their story with That’s Not Chinese and I. He started at the beginning, with how they met. He stated they met at a club and That’s Not Chinese immediately had questions.

Where is the club? Do they play techno? Have I ever been there? She was really hung up on the address. Smitten Kitten informed her, “The address is not relevent. I don’t know who took our money, don’t know the coordinates, and does it really help you to know what music is playing? The story is long, covers two weeks, and I’ve only gotten to part about where we met.”

After that, Smitten Kitten couldn’t remember where he was in the story, but I thought Sho Shy sounded really nice. It was about this time when That’s Not Chinese had, yet, another question, “Do you not have heat?” This really seemed like more of a statement and is clearly her way of letting me know she is cold. I turned up the heat and gave her a blanket.

Within five minutes, Smitten Kitten and I were wiping our brows – it had warmed up quick. That’s Not Chinese was sitting comfortably with her feet outside of the blanket and the blanket in between her legs. It looked like she was wearing a diaper. Smitten Kitten was perplexed, “You can jam out with your clam out or rock out with the cock out. But what can you do with a diaper?” I suggested, “Run the wiper if you’re wearing a diaper.”

No Comments | In: blog | | #

All of this talk about prison got me thinking.

A while back, I decided to commit myself to a little idea I had called “Project Commitment”. This was a project designed to help me revamp my dating prospects and protocols. I reviewed my journal from the project and found the first problem: I only committed to the project for five days and met an ex for breakfast on day one.

Another not so productive aspect of day one involved my online research for all things related to commitment, which landed me on http://www.meet-an-inmate.com/ (lonely attractive inmates in the USA seeking penpals). Finally, a place to meet men and women who are “committed”…..usually for 1-5  years, sometimes for life.

David, a prisoner in Oregon, really pulled at my heartstrings with this comment: “Don’t be intimidated by my tattoos and outer appearance.  I’m the type that will bring you milk and cookies in bed, and then have you laughing so hard you’d spray milk out your nose.” Romantic. In his personal details there were even more treasures. Religion: Christian (Sissy would like that). Occupation Before Prison: Gangster (I have a feeling Verna would like that).

Day two proved to be slightly less productive than day one. I spent the day, in workout clothes (no, I didn’t go to the gym), watching Lifetime Television for Women.

Day three, even less productive. I did, however, get a “tip” from a coworker, “Commitment is not an after dinner candy.” Who knew?

On day four, That’s Not Chinese suggested I try online dating. She gave it a go and met four prospects. All of their names started with “J” and did not exceed two syllables. Sadly, the relationships did not last; leaving me wondering if it was the online dating, the first letter of their name, or the lack of two or more syllables that prevented commitment.

Day five read, “on a hiatus of sorts”. Uh oh, sounds like a relapse. Too bad I didn’t write anything beyond that. I’m interested to know what I did on “hiatus”.

I was proper impressed with my commitment to that project. I decided to review some of my other projects and files and found a folder titled “One Liners”.  I opened the document to find just that, one-one liner, “Is that a Rolex, or do you just have good timing?” Again, impressive. I’m definitely committed to the idea of doing things. It’s the application that stumps me.

4 Comments | In: blog | | #

Paid a visit to my favorite BumpIt Beautician today. I always enjoy spending several hours at the salon and today’s experienced topped all previous visits. I had the privilege of sitting next to Verna and Sissy. Verna and Sissy weren’t there together, however, recognized each other between the hair stations. Once the recognition was made, the stories were flying.

Verna decided to pamper herself with a manicure, pedicure and a perm. “A perm?” Sissy asked. “Hell ya,” said Verna. “I’m still in the 80s. Right down to my hair, my friends, my tats and my charges.” Her laughter after this comment filled the room. Sissy and Verna began reminiscing when Sissy looked my way and said, “Me and her used to steal cars together. Verna, ‘member when I stole that car and then you got caught? That was so funny.” They started dropping names of other friends – Boxer, Smooth, SugarBear, Sleepy and Whispers – which made me a little jealous, those are some good nicknames.

Sissy told Verna she “had a real bad addiction” but started going to church and it has changed her ways. “I love church,” she told Verna. Verna concurred and Sissy asked her the name of the church she attends. Verna drew a blank. Sissy snapped, “You don’t go to church. You don’t even know what your church is called. Doesn’t matter. Living in a garage doesn’t make you a car and going to church doesn’t make you a christian.” Perhaps it was the ammonia, but this salon visit was getting better and better with each perm rod.

As they were finishing Sissy’s hair one of the stylists asked her what her hair used to look like. Sissy advised her it was a longer mullet of sorts, cut by herself. Sissy had come in for a makeover, and her stylist, “I’m King of the Roundbrush. No, wait, I’m Queen of the Roundbrush”, had done a fine job taking care of her. Sissy looked in the mirror and said, “I’ve wanted to get my hair cut this way ever since I got out of prison this last time.” Queen of the Roundbrush replied, “Well, girl, you look good. Now you just need to go get yourself a cute little outfit from Walmart.”

BumpIt Beautician was blowing out my hair with the roundbrush and told me, “I’m getting really fast at the roundbrush.” Yes, she was. I only came in for a color and, almost four hours later, was almost done. One of the other stylist came up to me and whispered in my ear, “I would not recommend a cute little outfit from Walmart to go with your new do. Nordstrom, honey. You didn’t get a prison haircut.”

4 Comments | In: blog | | #

The other day I was chatting with MiniMe about her trip to Ireland. She told me she likes Jameson. A day or two later she asked, “Were you disappointed that I drink or that I like Jameson?” I replied, “That you like Jameson. My blog is GrigioGirl, not JamesonJezebel.”

MiniMe stayed at my house while I was in Seniorville. Apparently the mouse in the house, aka MiniMe, ate my ice cream. Yes, my freezer burn ice cream. The ice cream I was saving to enjoy with the muscat. OregganO replied, “That sounds really good, but I can’t eat ice cream.” So, we just drank muscat and observed.

From where OregganO was sitting, she could see Red Terry and PhD in Sponges. From where I was sitting, I could see drive-bys. A lot of drive-bys tonight. Even had a few ding-dong bys. No black men today. Last time OregganO and I drank in the house, and the doorbell rang, OregganO ran for the door, “ate shit and fell”, while making the backroom corner, only to tell me, “there is a black man at your door.” I do know some “black men”, but outside of Dr. BJ, most of them don’t have my home address. Not yet, anyway.

OregganO and I pulled out the binoculars to observe activity taking place, approximately 20 feet from our said position. I thought we (OregganO and I) were both involved in a mutual conversation when she said, completely out of context,  ”Hand gestures, pencil flipping, eraser biting, eyebrows raised, they’re weird.”

“I really wish I could see that,” I told her. “We have to see how long they sit at the table without pulling out a calculator and a tablet of paper,” she retorted. Hmmm. I think I may have to binoc OregganO and Cream of Tartar’s asses. Sounds like they’re kinky.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” blurted OregganO, “She is workin’ it in the red terry, working isn’t working for her or him, but the red terry, oh yeah!”

A few seconds later, OregganO proclaimed, “What about a couch? I used to be a davenport, only because I used to be in a play, don’t tell MiniMe.” Later she said, “It’s almost like PhD in Sponges has a real job:  hittin’ the Red Terry.”

No Comments | In: blog | | #