Au Revoir, Nouveau Shire

And so, this is my last night in Manch Vegas.

Therefore, this is the last entry in FuManchShoes...can hardly have a Manch blog while living elsewhere, can I?

But never fear, I'll post the link as soon as I get my new home up and running, and you can count on me to continue to provide remarkably sporadic updates on my miserable love life, and my ever-increasing frosting consumption.

Until then....

Supermarket Sweep

I am absolutely shallow enough to believe that the quality of man I attract says something about me. Everyone knows that eights end up with eights, and fours with fours. And so on.

I'm probably about a 5 at the moment, but the self esteem reading has been hovering closer to a 2 for the better part of a year, and I think a combination of those factors has allowed me to become quite a hot ticket with the "total loser" element. It is quite an alarming wake up call to realize that the guy who may or may not be mentally impaired keeps hitting on me at the supermarket.

I go to this market near the office a couple times a week to buy sushi for lunch when I'm feeling healthy and 3 or 4 boxes of Oreo Cakesters and a gallon of Hi-C when I'm not.

Regardless, a couple weeks ago this dude was stocking shelves and as I walked past turned to me and said "Wow you look really nice today."

I was tempted to point out that he must think that "nice" means "bloated and zitty," but chose to just say "uh, thanks?" and keep moving. I was wearing a dress and stuff. If he'd been scoping me out for a while he must have been thrown off that I wasn't wearing my usual work outfit of jeans, flip flops, a dumpy sweater, and pungent despair.

Then on Tuesday this week, I saw him again as I was pulling into a parking spot. He was collecting the shopping carts and waved at me enthusiastically, as though we were friends. Bemused, I threw a "WTF" smile and a little wave back at him--big mistake. This emboldened him enough to come up and say hello the second I got out of the car.

"Hi!"
"Hi..."
"..."
"Uh, see ya."

Look, I'm all for guys saying hello when they think a girl is pretty or something. Hey, you never know right? So I know I'm not coming off very well here, and it's not like I'm a frigging beauty queen. Like I said, I'm a 5 on a good day. But this guy? Me and my coworker debated for a few minutes straight about whether or not he was possibly "special." He looked a little like Ron Howard's creepy looking brother.



Which, really, no offense to Ron Howard's brother or anything, but I wouldn't date him either. Oh! Maybe it was closer to the molester guy from "Little Children" who also was Kelly Leak from "Bad News Bears" all grown up, which is wrong on a hundred levels, mostly because that movie ends with him cutting off his own horn and Moe from "Beautiful Girls" rushing him to the hospital.



So yeah, not the best ego boost, that one.

Then there's the Jesus Lover I dated earlier this year, who is now dating a young woman who may or may not be mentally impaired. She's obviously not, but she basically looks...off. Like maybe a little inbred or something. I generally think of my appearance these days as approximately 148 miles of bad road, and I still think I'm about 537 times better looking than this chick.

So does this mean that Jesus Lover Loves Ugly Women?

AND DOES THAT MEAN I'M UGLY?

Between this and the shopping cart guy, it's looking like my drought is going to extend far into 2009.

Probably for the best.

Dear ManchVegas - Eat a Bag of Dicks

Editor's Note: I need to update, so I am posting this, which I wrote in August but never published because I wanted to edit it. Then I never edited it.

So it's old, but still possibly entertaining...More later!

Yesterday (August 15th-ish) evening:

534pm: Fu leaves work, in a rush because she has to run a quick errand and go home to change before heading down to Boston for a dinner.

550pm: Fu gets off her usual exit, furrows brow at odd traffic backup.

601pm: Fu has moved 2 feet in 11 minutes, getting annoyed, starts to feel familiar signs of frustration building, which Fu does not deal with well (blood pumping harder, tight throat, mild rage)

609pm: Fu finally realizes that the traffic backup is because the bridge leading to her street has been shut down. An accident maybe? Odd.

615pm: After pulling a u-turn and going one exit down the highway to find an alternate route, Fu encounters still more traffic, still more road blocks. What the heck is going on here? She finally makes her way through towards a roundabout route to her street and encounters her third roadblock. This one is manned by a cop, and at 622pm, 32 minutes after she should have arrived home, she asks him:

Fu: What's all this road block action about?
Cop: It's the race.
Fu: The huh?
Cop: The 5k. It's been in the papers.
Fu: Well I need to get to Fu Road.
Cop: Sure, just try the bridge.
Fu: The bridge is shut down.
Cop: Hmm. Well you need to move along.
Fu: But I need to get HOME.
Cop: Well, where do you live?
FU: FU ROAD.
Cop: The bridge is closed.

OHMYFUCKINGGOD.

632pm: After driving around and trying three more ways to get home and encountering only roadblocks, a single tear of rage works its way down Fu's face. She encounters another cop:

Fu: (tears) I need to get home!
Cop: (no sympathy) WHere do you live?
Fu: Fu road.
Cop: Oh. Well you need to wait until the race is over. That road is blocked.
Fu: So I can't go HOME? I LIVE THERE.
Cop: Well, the road is blocked. But don't worry it's only a 5k and it just started!
Fu: What if I had medication I had to take at a SPECIFIC TIME?
Cop: DO you?
Fu: Yes. Yes I do. Its my rage-control meds. (In reality: "No. Hmph. But I COULD.")
Cop: Don't worry the race will be over soon.
Fu: Yeah. Like your MOM.
Cop: What?
Fu: Nothing.

651pm a full hour after she should have been home, Fu finds another cop.

Fu: WTF, dude.
Cop: Can I help you?
Fu: Yeah. I need to get to my HOUSE. ON FU ROAD.
Cop: Oh, it's closed.
Fu: Ok, yes. It's closed. Why did I not know this would be happening so I could plan accordingly and take my anti-homicidal rage medication with me? Because now youv'e just put everyone in my eyesight at risk. Seriously.
Cop: It's been in the papers for weeks.
Fu: You didn't think, oh, maybe a flyer for my apartment community might have helped? What if I didn't speak English well? What if I subscribed to the NY Times instead of the crap assed Union Leader?
Cop: The race will be over soon.
Fu: Yeah, and hopefully this squirrel over here instructing me to kill kill kill will hold off until then.

Also? Eat a bag of dicks. I was 90 minutes late to my dinner.