The Married Bore Epidemic

                         

It has recently been pointed out to me, by my very feet-on-the-ground best friend, M, that I suffer from a common case of what she like to call the "Married Bore".

(Couples don't generally seem to notice, because it's usually too late, and the M.B bacteria has already clouded ones judgement)

One dark and ominous evening, I was robed up and ready for a nap, when the not-so-delightful trill of my ringtone sounded. 

M: How MUCH do you love me?

Me: hummm.. what?

M: Were you SLEEPing? MARRIED BOOOOORE!

Me: No! I was just getting ready to go out... It's a new club.. Called... Feather Doona.

M had scored entry to a fabulous Celebrity cocktail event for a photography launch. Any excuse to finally use my Little Red Dress (one notch sluttier than the little black one) and de-mould my Old Faithful All nighter Stilettos was good enough for me!

So there we were, looking fabulous, at the fabulous Ivy Bar on a Wednesday night before the event, when some guy at the bar starts waving me down.

Lets call him "The reason why I made grateful love to my boyfriend that night". Mr Smooth, for short.

He waved his armani arms in front of my face till I finally acknowledged his presence. My first mistake!

"Smoke?" he signalled. I held out out to him. "Can I sit with you?" he asks. 

He looks harmless, I thought. Mistake number two.

Then of course started the awkward staring and interview questions "How old are you, where are you going tonight? What's your BSB and Account number?"

I casually dropped the "boyfriend" bomb when he said he was in banking, "Oh my boyfriend is too". Very sly, I thought.

With Super Pervert reflexes, and before I can say "Invisible", he turns his attention to M, telling her repeatedly how beautiful her eyes are (between extremely arrogant small talk about how successful he is, cause he's 30, single and balding and living with his family). 

Aside from the subtle tones of douchebaggery in his speech, I would have to say that THIS was the dead giveaway:

Me: Are you going to have that cigarette?

Mr Smooth: No, I don't smoke

If a facial expression could project the words "THEN WHAT THE FUNK DID YOU TRICK ME FOR!!!",  I would have worn it with a matching outfit down to the toes! 

As expensive as M and I looked that night, we were not above getting free $9 drinks, so we hastily accepted when he offered to buy us a couple, checked our order twice and went to the bar for us.

"What a douche bag!" I hurriedly say as M nods vigorously in agreement, expecting him to be back any second. "At least we get a vodka cranberry for our troubles!".

10 thirsty minutes later, my Super Pervert Spotter eyes see Mr Smooth himself, BUYING A BEER and walking to another table!!!

Not only was I no longer worthy of conversation because my body wasn't available for rent that evening, but we got stood up! We got stuck with doing the community service of holding him up from the next victim for (what seemed) a lifetime, and got stiffed of our payback! I hope to god that was the only thing he was stiffing that evening. 

I will say this. To my single friends, Godspeed. I believe all the other fish in the sea may or may not be streamlined with the ONLY bacteria worse that the Married Bore Epidemic.

This is now called the "Only Jesus will think about loving you now" Fungi.

Dear Mr Smooth,

I would normally assume that this would be a funny story for you to tell your buddies... But 

If you are reading this, I want ten minutes of my life back. You are a testiment to the quote


"Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak"

That'll be $9!

Part time Married Bore, Full time girlfriend,

<3 Miss Coordinate

Because we all need a little balance ;)

The Emotional Terrorist

 
The Experiment
In my 8 month absence, I have noticed an abundance of a species that I would like to take this opportunity to introduce. That is, of course, if you haven't had the "pleasure" of encountering one already.
As the Zebras of the world meet the Lions, I give you...


The Emotional Terrorist
It's the bird on the wire above you that makes you shuffle over in fear that it might poop on you.
It's the loser in a fight that insists someone "make a choice" (who, may I note, never gets chosen!)
It's the fight you have, where you don't really say anything clever until a half hour has past... and they've already left!
It's the man that admits he just likes to fight
It's the complete and utter absence of all regard and logic, with the sole purpose of being a complete Kaniption to your existence.  


The Result
So this Zebra watched The Lion King for practise, put on her Cat Suit and ventured into the wilderness, where she wouldn't have to ask twice for an attack or two.
I came head-to-head with some Grade A reasons to stay in bed in the morning. It was as simple as the approach.

I walk into my function room at work, and who should be there but the CEO and the Head Chef, who I had on good authority, enjoyed a bit of "Machine Gunnery" to the lower ranks.
So I walked in. To my own function room.
Chef: Excuse me 'YOUNG LADY', I believe we were having a conversation before you walked in. (I swear he said it exactly like that, Capital letters flying all around). 
CEO: Don't you have something to do? Or something to clean?
This was my moment. Fight or Flight.

Dear the Verve, 
No matter how many times I listened to your lyrics, NO. This Could very well not Be The Moment!
I froze and made a hasty retreat. If anyone asks, my "Fight" reflex was just looking for the opportune moment.. and got lost.

I was falsely inspired much like the way that watching Julie & Julia inspires you to cook something well out of your skill range, and end up with stew.
In my research and experience with such creatures, I have found various ways to deal with these really bad April Fools Jokes of humans.
Don't!
(In this exception, I will break my meticulous grammar rule and start a sentence with Because)..
Because the only way to deal with these emotional pests, I mean really deal with them so they don't return, is by becoming one. So until they create a Mortein strong enough, I'll be sharpening my claws for phase two!

                              If I'm not back in five minutes.. Just wait longer!

Miss Coordinate <3

The Silver Platter

When we were younger, we dreamt of the Prince. Not only did we want true love, we wanted a magnificent Mansion, a full wardrobe, multiple staff, a balcony of singing bluebirds and who am I kidding, not so worried about the true love part. In fact- skip the love, and upgrade my bedroom suite.

Now that we're older, we realise the hard way that nothing comes without a price tag. This isn't the fairy tale; Prince Charming takes your hand to sweep you onto the white horse, and says "$75 not including GST sweetheart. Once around the park then?".

Some of us have a game plan; enter from the Dungeon as dragon feeders, and one day have enough experience on your Ye Olde Resume to apply for Kingsman/Future Princess.
Others want a free ride. Lets call these people "Sponges"; the "hangers-on" of society.

For example, working minimum wage and selling tickets at an Expo. At your booth is a laptop, your hopeful face, a bunch of info brochures, a lolly bowl and a couple of eco notepads.
Sooner or later, you come to realise that nobody cares about your tickets. You are being mobbed by a crowd of vacant-eyed freeloaders, asking you pretend questions while they oggle your minties and take off with your notepads and your dignity in their free commonwealth bank tote bags. Reaching for free goodies at an expo is more obvious than King Kong plucking Ann Darrow from a large New York crowd, but it's free, so they don't care.

Even as an exhibitor, I walked in with the sole intention of being a boot licker and setting a goal for how many free things I could receive. I got:
- A whole bunch of "useless" business cards, 5% off brochures (some of which were my own) and info flyers
- A commonwealth tote bag (guilty as charged)
- A couple of damn notepads
- A left over mintie that the mob missed
Severely dissapointed... Better Luck Next Time!!!!

When it comes to making something of yourself in the large scheme of things, there truly is no such thing as a free lunch. And althought at one point or another, I find myself glazing over with that same vacant-eyed-freeloader look, I still can't stand when other people want something for nothing.

Speaking of, I have an expo on Friday and I need to check out the website for potential freebies! Here is a leaving thought: Is working hard really that bad?           Do freebies bring out the worst in us?

hunting a garage sale near you,


<3 Miss Coordinate