meximick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I dropped the ball... Friday night - went to a marketing focus group. We spoke about the Olympics and why they sucked so hard. I found myself compelled to state my feelings, and I said things that I felt were amusing, and God bless the rest of the caucasion attendees (age 18-24), cause they did too. And there was this cute girl there named Lauren. She waits tables and is getting her masters in elementary education. I found her supercute, with the short brown hair and freckles, and easy laugh. She liked me and my worldview, I feel. We saw this 2 minute "Best of" featurette of images and the athletes of the recent Summer Olympics set to Beethoven's "Ode to Joy". It showed runners falling and gold medalists crying. Lots of hugs and screaming and that 3/4 speed replays of victories and overall athletic sportsmanship. I got the chills. And I thought I was going to fucking cry. I had to look away, to track down what was going on inside me, so I wouldn't just break down and start bawling in front of a group of strangers as we were videotaped and ate cookies and answered questions. It was cool, though. Anyhoo, Lauren was sitting almost across from me, and she was sweet and cute and we'd exchange glances periodically and agree with each other or another person. I had to look away from her a couple of times and stare at my cup of water because she was looking all cute, and I'm just not used to having cute girls like her looking at me. I needed this focus group. Needed as in "I'll agree with whatever you're selling, just give me some fucking money at the end so I can go drink and forget about this past misery week." So the end came and we lined up and envelopes were handed out and it was sweet. As we packed onto the elevator, everyone made small talk, and we disembarked on the 1st floor. I headed for the south entrance, pocketed the $100, and wondered if I should get change for the cab to the Sports Corner, where I was going to meet a friend from out of town. I also thought of Lauren. I said to myself, "Man, that girl Lauren was supernice." And then as I walked outside and looked back and had no idea where she had gone, stopped, thought for a second, and yelled "Fuck" really loud. Why the hell didn't I ask for her number? It would have been so, so very easy - if I had thought first and headed out the same exit as her. And she prolly would have given it to me because I'm friendly and say some funny things. And I'm not too painful on the eyes. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXSo if anyone knows this Lauren person who lives by herself in Chicago and has a cat (I think) and waits tables at night and goes to school to learn to teach kindergarden and first grade during the day, and has a cute smile and easy laugh and who watched alot more of the Olympics than me and has cute short brown hair and freckles.... tell her the guy with red hair and a goatee and alot of opinions would like to talk.14:17:54 - 2000-10-30 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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