I turned in a letter of resignation at my place of employment just about two weeks ago. Yesterday was my last day after nearly six years of working for the same empoyer. I was employee number four, and after a pair of name changes, a merger, and about two hundred projects, I was done.
What am I gonna do? Not sure. Sleep. Go to the gym. Clean up the boxes out of my living room.
And look for a job.
Last night, though, was the first night of being unemployed that I've had in over six years. It was (is) exhilirating and frightening.
I didn't have any specific plans last night... I didn't really feel like celebrating quitting, given the state of the economy and given that gloating would probably result in me being out of work for six months.
A friend, though, had taken some nursing exams and she txted me to come out to Ozzies, along with other friends of hers, to celebrate.
I hadn't been to Ozzies in nearly a queen's age (where a "queen's age" is equal to 72 hours), so I decided to go. I decided first, though, to figure out why I was getting a Windows error when I was trying to update to Service Pack 3. After some whiskey, some vodka/Red Bull, and then some Jaegermeister/Red Bull, I not only was able to update my registry and get Windows updated properly, I was also having a good time doing it.
Ahh, alcohol!
I wandered over to Ozzies and saw Motown, who was acting as the "guest judge" for the weekly contest. I had done the honor the previous week (or the week before; time is elastic) and it was good to see him there on a weeknight.
My test-taking friend, we'll call her Testy since I like to give codenames, was there with a group of female friends. I got into a chair and started talking. I met one of her friends (I'll call her Genie) and we talked about karaoke and England and alcohol. Pretty good stuff.
I was seated across the table from Testy and to Genie's right. There were two seats to my right and two seats to Testy's left. A pair of people sat to her left and I introduced myself to the guy. I'll call him Asshole Number Two. Not to give anything away, but unlike Testy, his nickname is not unrelated to his personality. He seemed fine at first, but wasn't especially friendly. Whatever.
At some point it was my turn to sing. I got up to sing and another guy sat down in the seat that I had been in. Fine. I sat by Motown at another table and went about my business.
Later, when the second guy (named, for future reference, Asshole Number One) left, I waited a few minutes and then went back to chitchat with Genie and Testy.
After about 30 minutes I felt a tap on my shoulder and I looked up and it was Asshole Number One. We had a brief initial conversation. It went something like this:
ANO: Move.
Me: What?
ANO: You're in my seat.
Me: Huh?
ANO: I said move, dude.
Me: No.
ANO: What?
Me: I'm not going to move. Why do you think it's your seat?
ANO: I was sitting there before you took my seat.
Me: Well, I was sitting here before you took my seat.
It was at this point where, as things sometimes do when guys are drinking and around women, it got much more (simultaneously) serious (and ridiculous).
ANO: You wanna step outside?
Me: What? Are you serious?
ANO: (glowering)
Me: No.
Asshole Number Two: Move!
Me: Give me a break.
ANT: He was there first.
Me: Wrong. I was here. You saw me sitting here. I got up to sing and he took my seat. No biggie. But I'm sitting here now, and I'm not moving.
ANT: Wanna step outside?
Me: Really? Wow. No.
It's at moments like these in life where I feel like it's all a joke. What life have both of these guys lived--what experience base do they have that is so utterly foreign to me--that they would each want to go outside and fight me? And why do they think that I would go outside and fight over a seat in a karaoke bar?
I looked around, and both Genie and Testy were kinda fidgeting uncomfortably. Naturally, though, I wanted to know if I was welcome in this seat. So I asked Testy, for whom we were all purportedly there, whether she wanted me to move. She didn't say much, but Genie said, "No! I need you to sit next to me!"
Buttressed thusly, I looked at Asshole Number One and shrugged and said, "Sorry, dude. She wants me to sit next to her."
Asshole Number One retreated from the table, and Testy stood to talk to Asshole Number Two. They were, like, three feet from me and their conversation went something like this:
Testy: Don't worry. He's a friend of mine.
ANT: I don't like him.
Testy: ...
ANT: He's creepy. He's a douche. I don't like him.
Testy: I invited him. He was sitting there before.
ANT: (Looking at me) Stop looking at me! He's got his eyebrows all raised and shit. I don't like him.
Testy: ...
ANT: We're going.
Testy: OK. You don't have t--
ANT: No, we're out of here!
It turns out that Testy didn't even know those guys. They were friends of her friend. Genie didn't know them, either.
Wow. Guys are awesome.
The rest of the evening was rather uneventful. Michigan and Racist were there, but that's another blog, long since due in the telling... maybe tomorrow I can write it up.
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