(As in, “A list … on my blog.”)

I don’t like to make lists when I need to run errands. Now, here I am back in my apartment after running my errands — including some Christmas shopping — and I realized that, yes, I got the gift certificates for my sister and her two roomates (one of them our cousin) from Borders; I got a storage tub from Target; I got milk and eggs from Giant.

I forgot the sale on the first season of Lost ($30!) which I was also going to get my sister from Target for the holiday. This pisses me off as I was already there.

I forgot the two tubs of cat litter from PetCo or PetSmart (whichever one is on Aylesbury). I wasn’t on Aylesbury, but I was in Timonium, so I’m not entirely teed off about this one.

***

I got to Borders actually fairly early, and there was only one guy working the register. I got three gift certificates, as I mentioned above. As he’s scanning them in and setting the prices and whatever else he has to do, this woman walked up right behind me. Uncomfortably close. Apparently she’s unaware of the big sign stuck on the floor before the bank of registers which says “Wait Here For Next Available Cashier.”

The big sign. That’s its impossible not to see.

I thought about turning to her and saying, “Hey, bitch, see the sign? He’s not – at the moment – an available cashier because unless you’re blind as a bat (and you must be to think that hat looks good on you), you can probably see he’s helping me. Now back the fuck off until we’re done.”

But I didn’t because I knew while I’d get my rocks off telling her that, she’d just take it on the clerk, and trust me, we’re getting to the time of the year when working retail really gets to the point where everyone wants to come to work packin’ a sawed off shotgun and a side-bag full of extra shells.

***

At Target, a stray shopping cart was rolling around the parking lot trying to hit cars. I dodged it and parked, walking in I had the intent to grab the cart and roll it in with the others on the side of the building. A woman had beat me to it, and was walking away from the cart when it rolled loose from the others (again, I presume). I secured the cart a bit more forcibly than she had (i.e., I pushed it over) and walked in to find her … getting herself a cart.

What, that one wasn’t good enough?

Dear Readers,

Please rack your brain and think of the busiest days you believe a fast-food delivery operation might face on a yearly basis.

I’m not looking for, “Oh, Fridays are busy because everyone is too lazy to cook!” Yes, but I’m talking more along the lines of — and here’s an example for you — “Halloween is one of the busiest days of a delivery shop’s year.”

A pizza cutter is a round wheel with a dull edge attached to a handle.

The first pizza cutter was actually developed by a tribe of Indians in the Pacific Northwest in the mid eighteenth century. They attached a circular blade to a tomahawk handle because they found it made skinning animals easier. An Italian immigrant bought one of these “rounded” tomahawks from the tribe for use cutting pizzas, which he sold in his general store in Portland. Although the rounded blade didn’t turn, cutting was made easier because he could simply “push” the blade through the crust and the pie.

When thrown, a well made pizza cutter (i.e., not one of those cheap ones used by most pizza shops) is second only to an Aboriginal boomerang in killing potential.

In the wrong hands, a pizza cutter has the potential to be a deadly weapon.

It never fails. It’s pouring out and the lady who thanks me oh so much for coming out in the horrible weather — oh, look, I’m soaked — and who, yes, agrees that I do deserve $400 for this incredible job of driving a pizza to her in the pouring, driving, freezing rain …

… tips me a buck fifty-four.

$1.54 … $400 … hell, I’d'v’e been happy with $3.

No magical castle/boarding school is complete without a tower-top broomstick landing pad. Y’know, for VIWs.

Harry Potter dominated every movie!

I do wonder if The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe will do better opening weekend.

Steve and A. showed up unexpectedly and unscheduled at work yesterday to show off … their kitties. Two of ‘em, tiny little things, both jet black. I tell ya’ what, I was playing with one of ‘em and totally oblivious to everything else going on in the store. Eventually, A. had to kick me repeatedly in the shins and Steve had to throttle me before I gave the kitten back. It was soooo cute, and soooo small. (I want a kitten).

**

Yesterday was a very busy day. I suspect it had something to do with the Ravens actually deciding to play.

At one point, I had two deliveries going north and one going south. As the only driver, I had to take all three together, but it was in my perogative in which order to deliver them. Fortunatly for the northern runs, the southern address rarely tips. Take a wild guess who got their order last.

**

I got stiffed on a delivery — total was $21, the kid had a twenty and several singles. He gave me exact change. Fine. I left, halfway back to the store E.G. called. Told me, “The kid forgot to give you your tip. Go back, he’ll get you.”

‘Forgot’ my ass. His mom caught him pocketing the tip and made him call. Regardless, we were too busy for a second trip anywhere and we stayed busy through the night. Even if we weren’t, I wouldn’t have gone back. That’d be … embarassing? It’d feel more like a handout, anyway. They can get me for an extra-sized tip the next time.

**

E.G. completely spazzed out during the day. This was probably the busiest Sunday we’ve had all fall, but it still gets tired hearing him scream: “GODDAMN MOTHER FUCKER STOP CALLING I HAVE HOMEWORK TO DO!” I tried pointing out to him that homework is supposed to be done at home (not work), but he didn’t appreciate my clarification. Zebulon came in at four and gave E.G. what-for regarding how messy the store was, and E.G. tried to defend himself by pointing out how busy it was. Zebulon replied, “Yeah, but this is how the store looked over the summer, too, when you ran Sundays and had four orders total for the day. Plus, you’re doing homework!” which earned from E.G. another rant about how he had to do his homework here because what with his heavy work schedule, he had no other time to do homework.

Oddly, when E.G. had the chance to leave at four, he didn’t take it. When he clocked out at five, he didn’t leave. He hung out in the store until about a quarter of six. Coincidence that a new girl was training to work inside and he was jonesing for her? I think yes. (Actually, it was pretty cute, the new girl walked in and Zebulon, E.G., and the not-so-new-kid all started talking louder, boasting, and strutting through the store to impress her).

**

While I took more deliveries yesterday than I have for the last couple of Sundays, my tip average was way down. Last week, my average was $4.75 (not including mileage) and I took fifteen runs. Yesterday, my average was $3.14 (not including mileage) and I took twenty seven runs. If I could just get a day with more deliveries and the higher tip average. It’d be awesome.

**

After a several month hiatus, I’m again working on Hogwarts.

So one of the previews before Harry Potter was for a movie by M. Night Shyamalan called “Lady in the Water.” Paul Giamatti is a superintendent of an apartment building who lives in a cottage by the pool. He works hard for no gratitude and goes home to write a book. One night he noticed something splashing in the pool. So, that’s the essence of the trailer.

Here’s my take on the movie: Paul Giamatti is actually King Arthur (who doesn’t know that he is), and the Lady in the Lake had to go to the pool (because he never goes to the lake anymore) and now she’s gotta prepare him for the truth all circumspect-like before she throws him Excalibur and he goes out and kicks major ass, making the world a better place.

I’m probably wrong.

(And, yes, there are spoilers, you’ve been warned).

The first thing you notice about Harry Potter & The Goblet of Fire is how the filmakers managed to compress the first 250 pages to fifteen minutes. The Dursleys are out, Mrs. Weasley and the elder out-of-Hogwarts Weasley offspring are as well. The Quidditch World Cup sequence through the massive hovering Death’s Head is edited fairly, um, extremely.

The second thing you notice is that every female in the audience makes a deep sighing noise every time Ron, Harry, or Neville (yes, Neville) is on screen. Particularly when Harry is, uh, not clad entirely. There’s some sexual suggestivity in his scene with Myrtle in the Prefect’s Bathroom, plus a tracking shot of the Beauxbatons hotties tends to focus on their asses (not that I’m complaining).

As the plot goes, in addition to the cuttings made above, none of the house-elves related plot points make it into the movie. Doby isn’t around, and Hermoine isn’t crusading for a labor union for Hogwart’s House Elves. Winky never “accidently” gave Barty Crouch Jr. a wand, and for that matter, the circumstances surrounding his escape from Azkaban are never explained. The producers rely on the audiences’ understanding of the book to compensate for missed plot points — sloppy, but perhaps a trade-off worth making if it keeps the story moving.

As a movie, it’s far superior to Prisoner of Azkaban. That said, many key characters are given the cold shoulder — Snape, Hagrid, and McGonagall could almost be extras for as much screen time as they get. Forget about Draco, he’s pretty much only in one scene and he’s a ferret for half of it. The death of Cedric Diggory has considerably less emotional impact than it did in the book — which is very dissapointing since Dumbledore’s speech about why the death of Diggory should illustrate to everyone at Hogwarts the importance of opposing Voldemort is such an emotional climax to the book, and in the movie just rings hollow (I think they changed the speech — it’s much better in the book).

I don’t think there’s really any way to do a book justice when bringing it to the screen, particularly books of these lengths with the amount of audience involvement in the characters and plot. The movie can be painful to watch since the absence of many things – notably in my mind the Dursely sequence, a staple of the books and of the films, too, (should be anyway) – seems to illustrate that the filmakers need to think “outside the box” in translating the books to film or lose the ‘magic’ that made them so popular in the first place.

***

As a side note, Jeff Bridges starred in a 1976 remake of King Kong. In your face!

You’ve all wanted it. You know it. Admit it.

So I got a ride done with Neckbone, driving her Liberty. This was because he didn’t want me yakking in his Wrangler, regardless of what he says. Apparently he was wearing a “salmon” colored shirt, it looked yellow is all I can really say. Oh, I can say “pink” … he was wearing a “pink” shirt.

On the ride down, ACW called trying to get me to help him find the bar. He said something about “one way streets.” Would you like to know how I get to Molly’s? 83-south to the 28th Street exit. Get over ASAP and make the first right. Drive until you reach the rowhouses, make a left, then a right, find a place to park and walk in. And ACW expects me to give him directions? I don’t think I was much help which is why he told me to poke Neckbone in the back of the head (with my tippy).

Despite all the buildup I did, somewhat local Delawarian blogger NPR Junkie chicked out. She claims she was sick. I claim she was afraid ACW would kill her and have sex with her corpse.

Broadsheet, eebmore, Mike & Kisch were there when we arrived. Fool and Eric might’ve been there too, or they showed up shortly afterwards. I walked in and immediately started drinking. For the record, I drank:

One Yuengling (before Neckbone & Ice Queenie arrived at my place)
Three Natty Boh’s (thank you, JJT and DD)
One Stella (at Molly’s urging)
and half of another Yuengling (thank you, Jenn) before my stomach said, “Dude, seriously, you’re not that fat, you’ve had your fill and I’m about to burst!” Jennetic screamed when she realized my stomach was talking. Neat trick, ain’t it? It’s conservative so usually I keep a big piece of tape keeping it shut so it can’t scream “BEER GUT FOR BUSH!” when I’m walking down the street.

Zenchick grabbed my left nipple and twisted. Hard. Ow.

j-e-s-s-i-c-a showed up (with her friend Young who I remembered from Slainte’s) and gave me some stunning news: “Jaime is here.” A lot of you don’t know Jaime. Her blog isn’t listed on Blogtimore. It was on the now defunct Crablogs. She rarely updates. Anyway, waaaay back when I first met j-e-s-s-i-c-a at Dizzy Issie’s in March, she mentioned “I didn’t bring Jaime!” and at every happy hour we’ve been at together, it’s something along the lines of, “I tried to convince Jaime to come but she didn’t.” So when j-e-s-s-i-c-a told me, “Jaime’s here”, I spun around because I hadn’t seen anyone dragged through the threshold in chains (which is what I figured it would take to get her to one of these shindigs). Turns out Jaime had arrived earlier and was sitting at a table across from the bar, hiding. Anyway, it was nice to finally meet and talk to Jaime.

JWER & Messy Hair Girl showed up and started making out, Cara and Tracy showed up and started trying to recruit people for kickball or whatever violent activity they’re involved in at the moment. I had visions of my back snapping and started sobbing uncontrollably.

This dude showed up and we had a miscommunication where I was trying to figure out if he was this dude, but then he thought I was that dude. So later, at the bar, we straightened everything out.

I tried to give fruit loops & porn accurate directions from Molly’s to 83, and she posted today, so I’m gathering she found her way.

ACW & I were looking at the jukebox trying to figure out what the Queen song from the climax of Shaun of the Dead is called, and Jaime mentioned she’d seen the movie, but we could none of us figure the name of the song so I had the jukebox play Queen’s “Princes of the Universe” (the Highlander theme), but right when it came on my ride got cranky and wanted to leave. Why do I let a man in a pink shirt tell me what to do?

I think I may have left some stuff, or people, off. If so, hey, comments.

(Also – if anyone knows Tracy’s e-mail address, I’ve been trying to locate it).

Do you know what’s funny? Zebulon delivering instructions and getting pissed off when you give him a blank stare. Why the blank stare? He delivered his instructions in Japanese.

Seriously, I don’t speak the language, might as well wave your arms and bark like a monkey. Zebulon, after instructing me in English under his breath, threw up his arms and moaned, “Tentousama!” like my failure to comprehend a foreign language I’ve never studied reflected the complete collapse of western civillization.

As for the foreign language I did study, all I have to say to you is no hablo espanol, senor(ita?).

Like a blog roll, but with chalk.

And, if you’re curious, it says “Anonymous-Coworker likes little boys.”

… putting on jeans and a shirt and a jacket and driving to the 24-hour not-so-gucci-Giant on Ridgely for ice cream.

One and a half Yuenglings, a Stella, and three Natty Boh’s later, I can’t conjure up a drunk post? Shiiiiit what’s wrong with me? Damn the bar for being out of cider.