Too Many Things to Say! And No Computer To Say Them With!

Due to the aforementioned computer problems, I thought I�d post a couple of interesting things that have happened to me over the last week.

Thursday, some Douche-Bag in a Mercedes honked at me because I had the audacity to honk at him. Why did I honk at him, Dear Reader? Well, considering he was attempting to negotiate a lane change into me (sans blinker, I should add). Apparently, I�m the asshole because he was too fucking lazy to check his bloody blindspot.

Dear Sir,

Please realize that two objects cannot occupy the same space at the exact same time. Also, please do not advertise your fucktardedness by honking at the girl who honked at you because you were going to change lanes INTO HER CAR because it�s NOT her fault you didn�t check your blind spot.

No love,
evil.

I had to stop in a different comic book store than the one I worked at and the (very, very HOT) guy behind the counter automatically assumed I knew nothing about comics. Since he wasn�t condescending and was genuinely nice and chatty, I played dumb and helpless. (In my defence, my brain and my principles were stunned by the cuteness. By the time they recovered I had already left the store and gushing about how cute it is when guys like that assume that � just because I�m a girl � I know absolutely nothing about comics.) I suspect that a group of angry feminists with pitchforks will be arriving at my door momentarily to revoke my feminist membership status.

Have discovered that the appropriate course of action for a bad day is Umbra (lavender) bubble bath and the new Janet Evanovich book. When I went into the tub I was ready to unleash the fist of death? After? All was right with the world (at least momentarily).

Last week, a bloke and his girlfriend walk into the shop: Hey! It's Likes to Fight Guy (LtFG)!

(First, a brief preface: it was one of those days where I look back and am thankful that I work at a comic book shop where most of our customers are darlings (on a very bad day only about one in every twenty customers is an asshole) and not in regular retail where you get assholes like this nine customers out of ten. Because if I had to deal with people like this on a regular basis, my seemingly-infinite patience would quickly run out and I would take a high-powered rifle and climb to the top of the nearest clock tower.)

Sir, asking me, "Who's this faggot?", when referring to the Rufus Wainwright CD playing on the shop's stereo (and honestly have no idea who Rufus Wainwright is or that he is, in fact, gay) will first make me go O_o and then it will definitely make me point and laugh at you.

It will also make me think you're an asshole.

And no, Sir, saying "Oh, Yaoi is so Gay!" while doing some shitty impersonation of a lisp and a hand-flip when referring to your girlfriend's purchases doesn't endear you to me either.*

Yes, Sir, I get it. You're a heterosexual and hegemonic male. Please stop humping the display cases.

*According to the articles I've read on the subject Yaoi (and slash fiction) are the stuff of women's fantasies. Generally speaking, they both make regular gay men fall over laughing. I have yet to hold my own informal poll on the subject.