What's he on about now?

In case the articles, essays and opinions throughtout this site just weren't enough for you, here's my online diary (a.k.a. 'blog'). It's as close as you'll come to the inside of my head, so don't say I didn't warn you
(and remember, you can always e-mail me if you love or loathe anything you're about to read)...


   Saturday, August 16, 2003

BACK TO ABNORMAL

After skipping work last night, I showed up at the pub tonight fifteen minutes early and was greeted by fellow doormen Rob and Lloyd and my boss Earl. All three looked at their watches with mock horror and rubbing of eyes as I walked up. "Yeah, yeah," I said. "We should have a power outage every day!" squealed Lloyd. "Is it really you?" asked Earl, as he reached out to touch my arm. Okay, I'm never early. I get it.

The bar ran smoothly tonight -- our blackout evacuation plans unnecessary -- though I was bored silly guarding the bathroom from unwanted drinks and weirdos. Nothing out of the ordinary tonight; my only problem was another appearance by one of our regulars, the self-absorbed geek who whines about his dull life to anyone who'll listen and many who don't. (Jeez, I think to myself, just get a blog already like I do!) Self-pity is hard enough to take here, but plain toxic in person. Worse yet, any advice I try to give goes unheeded since I can barely get a word in. I've learned to just nod and say "wow" at occasional intervals. A typical exchange will go something like this:

HIM: "I had to wait 35 minutes for a bus from Eglington yesterday. It was horrible."
ME: "Yeah, a lot of people were stranded downtown altogether. They couldn't get out at all."
HIM: "After about twenty minutes of waiting, I couldn't believe there weren't more buses. It was horrible."
ME: (nodding) "Wow."

After nearly an hour of this tonight, I actually slipped out the second door after 2 a.m. so I could punch out and slink away like a coward, which I am. Everyone else at the pub avoids this guy outright and they ask me why I don't just tell him to piss off, but I can't. He's just this side of harmless, only wanting someone to listen. And don't we all? I suppose the difference is communication: I write my blog partly to capture and express what I'm thinking or feeling right now but also in hopes that people will respond with thoughts and feelings of their own. Many have, which makes me happy, but talking to this guy depresses me. He has no interest in my opinion -- only my agreement -- so the lack of fairness in the conversation gets hard to take. Plus, believe it or not, I am trying to do a job there.