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And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Written on 2001-07-28, at 1:14 a.m.
dizboy's disturbing daily diet...

1 Tazoberry and Cream

1 Chicken Fettucine with sun-dried tomatoes in a parmesean garlic cream sauce

1 Freshly made Lemonade

1 Slice Dulce de Leche (that's fancy for "caramel") cheesecake.

1 pack chewy Tart n' Tinys

2 packs Rolos

1 bag Chester Cheetah Popcorn

4 Cigarettes

Ok, so ONE thing was healthy...

_____________________________________________________

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

'Tis some visiter,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door -

Only this and nothing more.'

Well, it wasn't a Raven...

It was Dan, waking me up at 9am...

Which is the human equivalent of walking into a bear's cave and poking it with a stick.

Now, he and I were in a silent fight, because he disappeared for a week, and I leave nasty messages.

Regardless, I figured why let the poor boy sit out there smoking angrily.

So we went to Starbucks, and testily puffed at each other, when a man who smelled like an 8 day old pastrami sandwich sat down right behind us and began making a noise that gave me the impression he was attempting to extricate a Buick from his sinuses.

And I have a Buick, so I know that's tough.

_____________________________________________________

So my friend Loren (male) and I had an "us" day today. It was quite fun, actually.

Just two models hitting the social scene.

Models?

Models.

You see, that's what we beutiful people are called.

Let me explain...

He is a model insofar as he has an agency, has done print work, cataloges, and other "model stuff".

I am a model insofar as I am wearing 1 outfit in a 30 minute fashion show for Gap's district meeting on Sunday.

Say what you will, but I feel I can safely say that I am now a model, nay, a supermodel.

So anyway, Loren and I are having our "us" day.

Our first stop is The Gap, or as the French say "Le Gap" to pick up my paycheck.

Nothing to exciting happened, other than the fact that I had to apologize to our district manager about something that wasn't my fault to begin with, but I wanted the heat off my other friends at work.

Hey, I'm a team player.

So now we have the money, what to do, what to do?? about $400 burning a hole in my pocket....Hmmm.....

Wait...you can't spend a check.

I had to deposit it.

So we're at the lovely new streamlined SunTrust bank on Bumby and East Colonial, and to my dismay, the line for the tellers looked like the line for the womens restroom on nickel beer nights downtown.

"Um...isn't there some, models only line?"

Apparently not so.

So, we get into this barely moving mass of humanity, and soon thereafter are joined by two people who I can only describe as poor candidates for human cloning.

You know, those people who the "Right to Life" factions would say "Oh, well, um...maybe just this once." about?

Well, it was a frightening little man (I mean little as in vertically, not horizontally by any means) and a woman who was either his friend, or someone who had just become trapped in his gravitational pull, and stayed along for the ride.

They must have taken classes on how to be obnoxious.

I mean really, they had this down to an art form.

They were the Sir Laurence Olivier and Joan Plowright of the obnoxious sect.

The man turned out to be a wierdo queer, myself being much more of an executive queer (If you're not laughing, you need to watch Eddie Izzard's HBO special.). But not one of those eccentric wierdo queers like Liberace, one of the ones who is a white male doing an impersonation of a hispanic woman pretending that she's black.

Still with me?

Good.

Now....all I could think about was...

#1. He keeps glancing at us, and making comments to his friend, so he's either thinking about touching us, or eating us. Neither of which were options I'd like to weigh.

#2. His friend is a militant lesbian (where the hell did that term come from? A militant lesbian? do they have to go through lesbian boot camp? Is there an 88th Batallion Elite Flannel Brigade? I don't get it.) and could at any time hurt either Loren or I greatly should we tell them to stop looking at us and just piss off.

#3. WHY IS THE LINE NOT MOVING????

I thought that because, well, the line wasn't moving.

Let me share something.

This is probably the 2nd largest Suntrust in the Orlando area. Second behind the gi-normous (gigantic/enormous) Suntrust Skyscraper which looms over downtown wishing it could look as cool as the Courthouse.

Anyway, it's a BIG Suntrust, ok.

It's Friday.

Pay day.

1:30pm on Payday Friday.

When most people on their lunch breaks go to deposit their hard earned dollars and cents.

TWO TELLERS.

Well, three, but one was just for business people.

Modeling is a business, n'est pas?

Regardless, I was glad to finally get out of there.

So we make the call to go eat at Cheesecake Factory...I allow myself that indulgence because:

A. I have $400 more than I did this morning, and

B. I'm a model, and that's what models do. Go out to eat. (Yeah, this whole "delusions of grandeur" thing is gonna last a while, suck it up and keep reading.)

Let me tell you..

This was the BEST meal that I've had in a long time...and it didn't hurt at all that the Cheesecake Factory seems only inclinded to hire aesthetically pleasing waiters, and that we were right next to their station.

So afterwards, we went to see the monkey movie...you know, whith that guy who used to be a white rapper.

Yawn.

Don't bother, it's all crap.

The score, however, was amazing...Danny Elfman is a genius.

After that, we went home, and I fell asleep from roughly 7pm-9pm.

Trouble is, I thought I had slept way longer, and my body was telling me it was 4am.

I don't know what that means, but I know it's screwed my night up.

_____________________________________________________

And finally...

I am one lazy bastard...I drove 3 miles out of my way to go to a gas station for, well, gas...and snacks.

Why?

Because I didn't feel like waiting to turn left and go to the one 400ft from my apartment.

So I took a right, went all the way out to the highway just to continue making rights to form a giant square around Orlando to get home.

I think there's a fine line between Obsessive-Compulsive, and sheer laziness...

Be well...

-JOHN-


Your Host and Emcee...dizboy.

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