What Kind of Day Has it Been
My second favorite TV show is The West Wing. I can usually watch episodes on Netflix or clips on YouTube on an endless loop to break through the wall of writer's block.
It's a great show written by the master of screen dialogue, Aaron Sorkin.
He always uses the title "What Kind of Day Has it Been" as the titles for season or series finales. Long days have that effect on people. What happened, where are we going and how do we get there all wrapped into one thought, which usually happens in an exasperated exhale.
Or a sigh.
It's been a long day that didn't start at 7:05 a.m., the time of my alarm.
Today began two weeks ago when I started to feel a sharp pain in my mouth by my lower right molars. I found out today that it's a bone fragment from when I had my wisdom teeth taken out. In 11th grade.
The other part of my day began last week. I'm not going into details but that, too came to another head today. We'll see if this plays out like in times past, or if we have something to look forward to in the future, though the definition of insanity continues to prevail.
And then last night I went on a stair stepper, which nearly killed me this morning trying to walk. The machine, like many others, is not built for people like me as my feet continually slipped off, leaving me to walk on the balls of my feet. I lasted five minutes. It was 4:30 too long.
So this morning I was too tired. Too sore. Too weary. Too irritated. Too over it.
But then, waiting for that wave of fluidity that sparks my writing habit, this scene pops into my autoplay:
Then all of this happened. This stream of thoughts taking shape and forming sounds in your head at midnight on a Wednesday night.
And suddenly I don't feel too tired, or weary, or over it.
A few words in the right space with the right amount of syllables can keep your head on straight, if only for a few hours more.
I only worked on Saturday this weekend. For the seventh time, I caught seven IDs. Always a bridesmaid and never the bride. I'll get to the magic number (8) one day.
Fake No. 1 (347): EDMpty
I could tell something was up when the woman wearing what looked like a bad Halloween costume came up to the door with bright silver eyeliner and a phone so close to her face I was tempted just to push it from the bottom so it would smack her in the face. (Hypothetically, of course.) I guess the reason she was shielding her eyes was that they were the wrong color.
Fake No. 2 (348): Ms. Moneybags
Some fakes are cheap as shit. Some cheats are very expensive. This was very expensive. Aside from some subtle lines and one ill-placed hologram, this would fool the average bartender, door guy, and liquor store. Good thing I'm above average.
"How am I supposed to get home?" she asked. I don't know, with all that cash you've got you probably have a manservant somewhere warming the Rolls.
Fake No. 3 (349): She Bangs
This is a family blog so get your mind out of the gutter.
In addition to being eight or nine inches taller than the ID, this girl wouldn't dare look me in the face while lying to me, despite being damn well close to 6-foot-3 in heels. Maybe she thought her secret weapon was hiding her shifty eyes behind her bangs.
Fake No. 4 (350): Ctrl + Alt + Delete
If you would rather shut down your phone to avoid having to show me a Facebook page you should make sure the "Are you sure you want to power down" message isn't still on the screen before you claim your battery died.
Fake No. 5 (351): More like In the Old Navy
A service ID is hard to fake, but a California is laughably easy. If Ms. Moneybags spent upwards of $150 on her ID, this sailor spent $20 tops. Which was already more than most of his wardrobe combined.
Fake No. 6 (352): The Pass Off
These girls were sneaky. And if I had a worse vantage point it may have worked because I didn't see the handoff. But I can tell if I was given an ID with the same Erykah Badu hair 30 seconds ago. You're clever, but still quite a ways from auditioning for guest roles in Oceans 9.
Fake No. 7 (353): Whitewashed
I don't think permanent marker gets enough credit. A solid "M" on the back of one's hand is a boss move to notify others of a minor. It beats the hell out of a stamp or wristband.
The quest for 300 IDs in one year stands at 288 with 10 shifts to go!
