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Dinner Conversation
Jane (Patrick's Mom): So how does the job front look?
Romie: Grudgingly optimistic, I suppose.
Jane: When do you think you'll have one? Soon?
Romie: How could I possibly know that unless I was hiring myself?
Jane: Because you know, you're moving into that apartment in a week and will have to pay rent.
Romie: Thanks for mentioning that; it's something I failed to consider.
Jane: So you might want to have a job now.
Romie: What a novel idea. . . I guess I'll start looking a month ago instead of spending my days drinking gold and handing pearls to random passerby.
It pretty much goes without saying at this point that if someone wants to place a hit, all they have to do is instruct the victim to bother me about either (a) the nature of my unemployment, or (b) why I ought to have a bridal registry. I'll get rid of the body and everything. If you could see to it that they have some cash or jewelry on them, I'd really appreciate it, and I get first dibs on any expensive dental fillings.
Also, (and this is something I really want to know,) if I say: "please please please please don't buy me a gift as I hate almost everything on the market today and anyway have no room," why would you feel the need to buy me an unwanted gift and then make me feel bad for not asking for anything? Is it to satisfy your own stuffed ego, or is it more of an attempt to stave off mortality by commemorating yourself in an ugly pewter vase you expect me to display?
In summary, the next person who suggests I choose a silver pattern gets a fishook through the eye.
Romie: Grudgingly optimistic, I suppose.
Jane: When do you think you'll have one? Soon?
Romie: How could I possibly know that unless I was hiring myself?
Jane: Because you know, you're moving into that apartment in a week and will have to pay rent.
Romie: Thanks for mentioning that; it's something I failed to consider.
Jane: So you might want to have a job now.
Romie: What a novel idea. . . I guess I'll start looking a month ago instead of spending my days drinking gold and handing pearls to random passerby.
It pretty much goes without saying at this point that if someone wants to place a hit, all they have to do is instruct the victim to bother me about either (a) the nature of my unemployment, or (b) why I ought to have a bridal registry. I'll get rid of the body and everything. If you could see to it that they have some cash or jewelry on them, I'd really appreciate it, and I get first dibs on any expensive dental fillings.
Also, (and this is something I really want to know,) if I say: "please please please please don't buy me a gift as I hate almost everything on the market today and anyway have no room," why would you feel the need to buy me an unwanted gift and then make me feel bad for not asking for anything? Is it to satisfy your own stuffed ego, or is it more of an attempt to stave off mortality by commemorating yourself in an ugly pewter vase you expect me to display?
In summary, the next person who suggests I choose a silver pattern gets a fishook through the eye.
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So in conclusion, I have no problem with the presents as long as they're from people I actually *know* and nobody feels obligated to get them. For everybody else . . . if they really feel it's neccessary, I'd appreciate gift cards for Central Market or Whole Foods or something, I guess. No fondue pots. I'll probably set up a sort of . . . I don't have time right now. I'll talk about this later.
-R
Re: