The Party
2001-06-14 - 6:40 p.m.
The workout tonight is gonna hurt.
You see, I just got back from the 3-6PM business party at my manager's place. John, one of my ex-supervisors was there first, so by the time we got there, the daiquiris were flowing well. Yes, I didn't expect mass amounts of beer and liquor at a business function during business hours, but I'm the very last person you'll hear complain. Well, Dennis Hopper would probably be dead last, but I'm back there. Of course, me being the party animal that I am, I had to try a little bit of everything.
I guess I should have expected it since as much as I may not like my job, my manager rocks. LL (as I'll call her here, in order to avoid reprisals down the line) is one of those managers that is just cool to hang out with. It probably helps that she is probably around the same age as I am, she's single, and she loves to drink. Oh, and it doesn't hurt that she's really good looking.
That last point was hammered home early on in the party, as she was still setting things up. John and I are sitting on her sofa, and LL crouches down by her entertainment center to find a good CD. Well, she was wearing some mighty tight pants with no belt, so out pops Mr. Satin Thong. If you've read any of my previous entries on this subject, you can rest assure that it was all I could do to keep from drooling all over myself.
Anyway, whatever lust I had there for LL before, let's just bump it up a few notches, mmm-kay?
In related LL news...
Q: What do you do when you when you are somewhat worried about losing your job since you don't like it, and you barely do anything?
A: That's right. You pal around with the boss (LL) at the party, and by the end, you decide that you're going to become running buddies. Yep, it looks like at least a couple of times a week, I'm going to somehow drag my ass out of bed at quarter after six in the morning and go running with Thong Boss. This ought to be interesting since I haven't run for real (not counting treadmills) in years. Not to mention I don't normally go further than 3 miles or so, so this has all the makings of Justin's first heart attack/blown out knee. Oh well, hopefully the macho thing of pushing myself to look good will last long enough to actually be able to hang with her for real. Of course, considering my normal bed time is in the neighborhood of 2 AM, this ought to get interesting.
Anyway, I've got a couple of hours until I'm supposed to head to the gym so hopefully by then, most of the crap I've put in my body (1 Sam Adams, 3 very strong strawberry daiquiris, and a whole mess of finger food) will have been mostly digested. Otherwise, it's going to be a long night at Bally's.
I'll probably sign in one more time before bed, since I have an extra special rant planned. Until then, keep it real. Peace out, G. (whatever the hell that means)