Gopher Hunter

I was browsing the "etc" job listings and came across this one. This woman (I'm assuming) is out on a mission... S(h)e is paying $11.00 whether the qualified hunter has shot anything or not and on top of that, allowing this hunter to be intoxicated on the job "within reasonable conditions". What may I ask, does that exactly mean? And what exactly would be work experience to qualify as gopher hunter? I fear that someday I'll become as bitter as this woman is, who can't seem to even befriend cats.


Seeking Experienced Hunter to Exterminate Gophers
(Date: 2006-01-24, 1:15PM CST)

Seeking someone to get rid of gophers in my backyard. For the past 3 years, I've had the unpleasant fortune of gophers taking residence in my backyard. They have caused me thousands of dollars in lawn care repairs. I'm seeking someone to hang out on my back porch this coming spring and summer with a pellet gun to shoot at these gophers all day. Any of my neighbors cats that might walk through the yard is fair game as well. Compensation is $11.00/hr and a bonus of $2 for every gopher killed. Drinking on the job is acceptable within reasonable conditions. This is in the Northwest Burbs. There is a spare bedroom in my basement for a reasonable price if transportation is an issue. Please forward me your work experience and an explanation as to why you are the most qualified gopher hunter.


Job location is Chicago Burbs
Compensation: $11.00/hr + bonus
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What ho...A ho(e)!

I had overheard my roommate Bailey talking of how hard it is to go out into the city as an out of towner so I had suggested a girl's night out. Maria had an idea of where to go and so we began our outing by taking a taxi to avoid any walking in slush.

Bustling with activity and lines for who-knows-what, we get out onto the street. As I take in the surroundings, everything looked strangely familiar. I look up at the signs and I see "Howl at the Moon". I look across the street and realize that the bar there was where I had ended my oh-so-tragic 21st birthday.

Anyway, we had a pretty decent time and I lost my voice when we decided to go to "Howl at the Moon". Apparently, the request taking band is an nightly thing at this bar...The interior looked nothing like my birthday because of the large number of occupants on a Saturday night. I even ran into our waiter from my birthday and was remembered. After sometime, Bailey had gone home. Maria and I had decided to go across the street and sure enough sat at the bar I had vomited carrot cheesecake just several months ago. I never knew you could sit at a bar and just order water...I told the drunk man trying desperately to converse with me that it was straight vodka.

After much ranting and raving about life, we end up at the 24 hour diner...because it's the only one of its kind in downtown, it's the busiest lil corner, where all the young (and some not so young) half-intoxicated partiers feed on various breakfast foods. There were interesting people talking in line and you hear things like "Oh they don't have ORGANIC food??" or a girl aggressively saying to another "You're GONNA eat" so that they can stay with the males they picked up on their outing. While we were eating, a middle aged man came and introduced himself as he sat down next to my roommate. Again, another hit. I had to roll my eyes at this man because he was wearing the oh-so-fashionable striped collared shirt, half buttoned with a gold chain nestled in his chest hair. Let's not forget the fabulous gold ring with red jewels.

We finally left and tried to flag a cab home. A minivan type stopped in front of us and as we went to open the door, it slid open. Out stepped a black man, dressed in a black bowtie and tuxedo, along with large heavy jewelry of gold and possibly diamonds. I must say though that the best part of his outfit was his black, fur PIMP coat that reached his ankles in length. The man stood outside the cab while his lady friend in pink PAID the taxi fare. I couldn't help but be confused at this situation because for one, I've never seen a female pay a cab fee while in the presence of a male...(on a side note, I realized that I had to pay on my 20th birthday when I was "taken out")
My roomie comments on how cold it is, the man says "I never feel all the cold!" and I comment "That's a lovely fur coat you have". This was all rather odd.

On our ride home, we both started talking about how peculiar they were. The cabbie had then started talking how they were "regulars" of his and how the man had 3-4 other girls...clearly, this man was a *true* pimp. I really wish there was some place where I can read about stories that cabbies have. Surreal. But all in all, I'm happy to say that I ran into a pimp and his ho.

Tagged along to go to Bahama Breeze restaurant last night and the Bamboo Room afterwards. The night sucked out. It was a long wait to get in and another long wait to get food. Then I was incredibly offended by the way my friend treated our waitress and I took it upon myself to apologize *for* him. Of course, he doesnt know that, but I wonder if he should? It was the smallest thing really, but for some reason, it proceeded to bother me the rest of the night and gave my friend the cold shoulder. Now I feel stupid that I did that and my friend has no clue. People thought it odd that the waitress was being extra friendly with me (quite talkative, trying to give me a list of "hot spots" and watnot). It's obvious that she took note of my friend's behavior because the manager came by to offer free stuff. How embarrassing for him.

Moral of this story: Be kind to your servers. If you disrespect, at least apologize.

I'm Grade-A.

My grandma seems to like to imply that I'm fat. The other day she told me that I'm healthy looking because I "wear meat" (that's a literal translation of what she said). I can't seem to take that any other way than it meaning, "You're fat". This morning, she made the hand motions of turning an imaginary piece of steak as she said, "You look tasty, it makes me want to grill and eat you".

less than two days and my so called vacation will be over. I'm sad that I will be getting on a plane alone, sit alone, and arrive alone to someplace that is the coldest I'd ever known.

I'm scared of becoming old.

Boo.