meximick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Why I luv sick days Decided to call in last week. I wasn't sick, but I just can't pass on making use of the fantastic discretionary sick day policy at this awful (possibly racist, I hear) company. Here's the policy - feel sick?- take the day off! No actual sick days, per se, just an honesty-based policy. I plan being sick at least twice a month. By 5:00pm on last wednesday, the most I'd accomplished was taking a shower. But I made up for the lethargy over the next 2 hours... I went across the hall, not expecting my neighbor to be home. She was, and invited me in. What started as a typical plesant chat became a more serious, life-affirming discussion. She's smart and ambitious and driven, but mistakes can happen to anyone... I offered to help her any way I could. She thanked me in a tone that reminded me of a parent thanking a small child too small to help, but she was appreciative of the offer. She's strong. I'm so fucking glad I'm not a woman. So much stress. I'm bothered sometimes that I have it so easy in life, while others have to deal with circumstances I will never face because I'm a white male. Well, a white-appearing Latino. Ok, a white guy with a Mexican mom. But I also feel bad about contemporary Christian rock music fans, but in a "Oh, those poor dears." kind of way. So one illicit transaction later, I was hailing a cab to get to The Metro for this. Heading west, and almost out of my head, I made small talk with the cab driver. He seemed funny, in an old timer I've-seen-just-about-everything kind of way. He asked what show I was getting tickets for, and I told him. then I asked what kind of shows did he go to. He mentioned horse shows (!), car shows, and... chess shows. I asked, "So, you play chess?" "Oh sure, I do." I told him that though I was terrible at it, chess was one of those things that fascinates me. He then went into a fairly in-depth conversation on chess: the attacking styles, defensive postures, the 'battlefield' mentality and strategies. He was clearly excited I had started him on a topic he enjoyed. We had been parked outside the Metro for about 5 minutes or so, still talking about chess. It was such a crazy, unexpected conversation. I thanked him for sharing, and asked how much I owed. He turned on the light and I looked at his hand. On the back of his hand was a large tattoo of a chess pawn. I think my exact words were, I believe, "Holy shit! You have a pawn on your hand." He coolly replied, "Yeah... I'm pretty good at chess." Bought the tix. Bought a Bad Brains live disc, got a corn dog at this joint, while listening to the aforementioned disc. It rocks a whole lot. And so did my day off... 12:11 p.m. - 2002-02-12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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