Lunch at Jenny Craig's

When I was in tenth grade I was basically a nerd in denial. I took a zero-hour chemistry course that was well before any sane person came to school. The class was full of Type-A students and seniors on the verge of dropping out. My lab table was the most diverse with a black kid named Marcus and a Korean named Jinn who were both skaters/sci-fi/anime geeks very similar to me. In between shoving thermometers into mystery liquids we'd talk about Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Dragon Ball, and video games. One day Jinn invited me to come over the his house to watch movies, whatever kids our age did. I went over on a Saturday, greeted by a Korean mom and a White dad, pretty typical stuff. We went to Jinn's room and something seemed a bit off. There were Dragon Ball wall scrolls, a set of Japanese action figures and the like, but there was some Sailor Moon posters and the room was a little too... pink? Jinn fired up his computer and showed me some ROMs he had and we talked about some manga he got from Asia when he visited some family members. Suddenly the door opened and the mother poked her head into the room.

"Jenny, I told you if you're having boys over you need to keep your door open."
"Sorry, Mom."

I can't remember if or what expression passed on my face in that moment. Jinn was Jenny? I heard the name 'Jenny Craig' thrown around at school a lot, but never in my chemistry class. People even TOLD ME I knew Jenny Craig, but I always pictured a chubby white girl and shrugged it off. But here I was, essentially meeting Jenny Craig for the first time. In her bedroom with Sailor Moon silently judging me. This was perhaps the first of several times where I felt like I was tricked into a date.

We ate some grilled cheese, watched some kind of movie in her room, and I'm not really sure when I left or how long I'd been there, but I never went out with Jenny Craig ever again.

The Water Bottle Squeeze Trick

All too often I get off of work late at night only hurry to my local coffee shop and lay some bullshit stories out for the poor guy running the counter. The Taylor kid suggested I write some crap online, embellish things, then $$$. I just remembered I had this blog where I bitched mostly about my Mother but hadn't updated it in a year. I don't know where the money comes in, but here's some tales of The Dude Named Vince.

I was routing around the back of the work fridge and found a bunch of water bottles I bought and left there a few months back. They piled up in the bottom tray and were ignored during fridge cleanings. I was really thirsty, so I grabbed a bottle and tried to twist off the cap to no avail. The things was bulging out, super pressurized, I would not come off. I gave it to a few people to try and open but nobody, not even a girl, could open it. A coworker, Michael, decided that releasing the pressure would make the task easier. He shoved a syringe into the side with an audible snap. The cap still wouldn't twist off but the stupid bottle was leaking now. I held the bottle sideways to prevent it from getting water all over my stuff and occasionally held the hole up to my face and squeezed a small stream of water out. Just hearing the sound, Michael commented that it made him want to take a piss. Walking around the office I kneeled next to Ludwig and whispered to him, "Do you know what it sounds like when I piss into peoples' mouths?" He made a face of disgust and gave me a dirty look. While looking him in the eye I squeezed the bottle into my open mouth, echoing the sound of peeing into a toilet. He was totally freaked out as I walked away to wander around the hospital a bit more.