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January 26, 2003
Brunch with Mom and Dad at Luby's. My roll didn't make it to the end of the serving line again. Cashier gave me a funny look. I don't know why--it's not like I tried to hide the dish and not pay for it.
I know I wasn't going to tell anyone, but when Dad went to the men's room, I told Mom about my late night bathroom confrontation. She asked me why I didn't step on over and grap something interesting. I swear. Well, at least she believed me. Asked me to pinch his butt for her the next time I saw him. Told her I wasn't likely to see him again. I mean, it was weird enough that I'd met him twice. What are the odds that I'll see him again? I'd probably have more luck playing the lottery. That reminds me--the pot is up to 48 million. I'd better buy a handful of tickets tonight.
January 29, 2003
I had all six of the numbers for the lottery. Unfortunely, no more than two of them were in the same group. Damn. Near miss--the story of my life.
January 30, 2003
Sales brochures and catalogues have started to arrive at the office and at home, addressed to me. I didn't order them. They're all for household appliances and survivalist supplies. The bitch Tabitha gave him my home address! So help me God, if this twerp ever shows up on my doorstep, I am suing Seguro and Tabitha. I'll get the fillings out of her back teeth! I wonder if filing a change of address form for her with the Post Office would count as a sin?
January 31, 2003
Callahan wants either Avacado Green or Aztec Gold for his shelter appliances. Who knew he was stuck in the seventies? I keep trying to explain to him that the energy efficient types he needs to get for the shelter aren't exactly for maximum eye appeal. Wouldn't brushed steel look nice? He says he's pretty sure he can have one or two items custom made if he talks to the manufacturer. Pissy thing is that he's probably right.
February 1, 2003
He wanted me to spend the weekend at the Retreat meeting with representatives for the energy, ventilation, and water purification systems we're considering. I told him that I could handle that in the office, during office hours. He said he was going to be brainstorming on a script, but wanted to be able to pop in and check on the progress occasionally. I told him that my weekends were my own. He offered me a $100 cash bonus.
I packed an overnight case, and brought this journal. It's more comfortable than it would have been in the office, I guess. The food is better, anyway. The company is better. No Tabitha--H. Colin Baxter instead.
Yeah, that's right. He's developing the script with Callahan, planning to make it sometime next year if they can get a script thrashed out.
Margo was drinking something pink, fruity, and alcoholic before noon. When I talked to the salesmen, she was about as useful as a snow shovel here on the Gulf Coast. I wonder if Callahan knows she's a twelve-step prospect? I get the feeling that he's real good at ignoring things when he wants to be.
Never knew that just listening to sales pitches could be so tiring. Never experienced such kissing up in my entire life. Decided I didn't like it.
Supper was good. Heck, most meals I don't have to cook are good. It was something with a French name that pretty much worked out to beef stew made with wine.
Callahan asked Margo about the products we'd heard about this afternoon. He got a blank look. That meant I got to have my meal spoiled by having to talk business. Normally it's a good thing when the customer is interested enough to ask questions, but it would be a hell of a lot better if the customer actually bothered to listen to the information first hand. I wish Callahan would either just give me complete authority, or push me aside and do it all himself. This nagging supervisor method is making me tired.
After supper Callahan got on the phone to bug other people on the coast. Margo started on the scotch. Baxter showed me a big stash of games in the recreation room. I think Callahan collects them, since most looked like they'd barely been used. I haven't played board games since my last junior high slumber party. Playing them with a grown man makes a load of difference.
Since work was over for the day, I had a few drinks. Maybe that helped make everything seem so hilarious. Candyland was a hoot. So was Hi-Ho, Cherry-oh. I had no idea you could get so many double-entendres out of kid's games. And Snakes and Ladders? Whoa, could he make a s-l-i-d-e sound sexy. The man is a menace. A very, very nice menace.
Maybe I had one too many, because I told him what Mom had told me to do next time I saw him, about the pinch. He laughed. Then he stood up and turned around, pointing his behind at me, and said far be it from him to deny a mother's request, have at it. I bet he thought I wouldn't. I thought I wouldn't, too, till I was actually tweezing. Mmmm. Here's a secret--his booty is so firm I had a hard time getting a nip. But I managed.
I have pinched H. Colin Baxter's ass, at his invitation. I guess I can die now.
He offered me another drink. I decided it was time for me to go to bed. Yeah, right, I'm chicken. Maybe I could have actually gotten some kissy-face or even a little groping, but I wasn't about to risk having Callahan come in. He'd probably have wanted to give directions.
February 2, 2003
I saw my shadow this morning. Six more weeks of winter, dammit. Eight more hours of salesmen today. Doesn't anybody besides me not like to work on Sundays anymore?
Baxter spent part of the day with me, listening to salesmen and letting Callahan wrestle with the script alone, since he seemed to be there mainly to agree with what Callahan came up with. He told me that it was easier to do that on the first draft. He'd start fighting on the second one.
I thought Margo had run through the Scotch yesterday. Did you know that if you're rich enough, liquor stores will deliver on Sunday?
Callahan wanted suggestions this evening. Told him I'd need more time to look over the sales material and check for customer satisfaction from other customers. He wanted to know if he could get a small nuclear powered generator. Resisted the urge to ask him how much science fiction he'd been reading lately. Pointed out that he was trying to avoid radioactivity, that it was probably pretty hard to come by the needed uranium, and that I didn't care how much influence he had, but I doubted he'd be able to get the permits necessary--if they even existed. Talked up combination solar charged batteries and propane for cooking. He looked blank when I said 'cooking'. Hope he's well acquainted with a can opener. I guess if he can boil water, he should be able to use the survival rations.
Callahan joined us in the rec room. Kiddie games were out, but he had several versions of Trivial Pursuit. Good thing he isn't in charge of my paycheck. I whipped his butt at Movie Pursuit. Baxter tried not to laugh, but wasn't too successful at it. Might not have been tactful, but I can't stand to pretend to be dumber than I am. Screw him if he can't take a joke.
Before bed Baxter asked me, no sales talk, if I honestly thought that a shelter was a good idea. I asked him if he'd been listening to the news lately. Yes, I think it's a good idea. I think the one that Callahan is putting in is more an exercise in ego, but a basic shelter is a good idea. He asked if I'd ever considered doing private consulting. He's probably just flirting on automatic pilot, but that's okay by me.
Baxter asked if he could pinch my butt if he brought a note from his mother. Heeheehee.
February 4, 2003
He's going abroad to scout locations! Tra la la la la! Peace! Quiet!
February 5, 2003
Alexander Graham Bell, may you burn in Hades. Or at least whoever invented long distance. Callahan called from Scotland. Now he wants to see if I can spread some heather around the site, and do I know how long haggis can be safely stored? I said it was a stuffed sheep's stomach--what kind of a shelf life did he think it had, and had he ever actually tasted one?
Entertainment magazine had an article on Before They Were Famous. Listed Baxter in that British soap opera--Me Mates--and that cheesy mid-eighties slasher movie he made when he was seventeen, Blood Ballet. Oo, bet he buries that one on his resume. He was in it for about ten minutes, playing the ambitious dancer who gets a heavy spotlight dropped on him. Yeah, he still looked a little immature, kind of unfinished, but he still looked damn good in that leotard. He even looked good spitting blood. Talk about a cheap production, you could see part of the capsule he bit down on, and they didn't even retake. I remember seeing that in the theaters. All the girls in the audience did the 'awwww' thing when he died. Some asshole sitting near me yelled that he was probably gay. I yelled and asked if he was hoping for an introduction.
I think I saw a poster for that movie on eBay. I wonder if it's still there? I wonder if he'd sign it if I asked?
February 7, 2003
Now Callahan's in Ireland. Asked if there would be storage space for two cases of premium whiskey. I shudder to think of the import tax or whatever the hell it is he'll have to pay. I'm having warm fuzzies thinking about how much his phone bill is going to be.
I could hear someone talking in the background, then Baxter came on the phone. O.o That's me, being surprised. He just wanted to say hi, wondered if he decided to have a shelter built in California if he could choose his liaison, or he'd have to take whoever they sent? I said that usually they worked with the local staff, but for an important customer they might get someone outside. He asked if they'd send someone all the way from Texas. Then he asked if I thought he ought to try to kiss the Blarney Stone. Then he said 'Good-bye, kiss kiss' and hung up.
Oooooh, brother! The man is the master of flirtation. I think he must've kissed the Blarney Stone a long time ago.
February 8, 2003
Took advantage of matinee prices. What the hell ever happened to a 'small' popcorn? Even the 'child' size is bigger than the small used to be. They shouldn't blame me if I eat it all, because I'm not about to leave half a cup of popcorn sitting around. It's as stupid as claiming that one Pop Tart is a serving when they put two in a pack. Also got large soda and box of Whoppers. Lamented the fact that I can't get Jordan Almonds or those flat, round dark chocolate things with the teeny white sprinkles on top. What are they, anyway? Something like parallels. Spent twice as much at the concession stand as I did on the ticket.
Went to see Shameless Flatterer, Baxter's newest movie. He played a public relations guy fighting with his conscience about working for an absolute shit, trying to make him look good. The boy can act. Angst out the wazoo, soul searching all over the map, more redemption than a coupon clippers club. I can hear the Oscar buzz starting already.
Oh, and he had a semi-nude scene, too. Got woke up at some ungodly hour by his client, desperate to have him cover up some shit, stumbled around his bedroom in just his boxers, talking on the phone. Heard the girls sitting behind me drooling over him. Resisted the urge to turn around and tell them I'D been as close to him as I was to them, and he was wearing less than he was on screen. Decided to just hug that thought to my bosom and gloat. Sat through the movie twice. Did not feel guilty, since I bought a box of Goobers.
February 9, 2003
I love looking through gourmet catalogues, like Swiss Colony. Tons of different sorts of sausages and cheeses, pastries and candies. I don't even like cheese all that much, and I like reading and looking at them. Who knew what kinds of flavors they'd come up with? And the Swann's catalogue. Damn, what a selection of ice cream novelties! I can read all I want, and never gain an ounce.
Not quite the same thing, looking through the survivalist supplies catalogues. Never saw so many grains and legumes in my life. I read that Callahan has catering from four star restaurants brought in when he's on the set. Wonder how he'll deal with powdered eggs?
Solar powered generator has been installed and is operational. Banks of rechargable batteries set up and charging. They've started finishing the interior rooms, be ready to decorate soon. Darn thing is really beginning to come together.
February 11, 2003
Two days of meeting survivalist food sales reps. Two days of sampling items. Two days of the type of food I'd thought I'd left behind when I graduated high school. Couldn't really call it 'mystery meat', since it was clearly labeled on the outside of the containers. Pork and noodles. Teriyaki chicken. Santa Fe Beef and Beans. Riiiiight. Read the teeny, tiny print. 'Textured vegetable protien'. Hello. Can you say 'soy beans'? I'll have to look at the high end suppliers. Callahan can afford it, and I hate to think about how he'd bitch if he got this stuff. Of course, if he ever got around to actually using it, the situation would probably be that he'd be too preoccupied to bother chewing my ass out, if said ass still existed.
The beef patty reminded me of the oatmeal burgers they sold in high school. They tried to tell me that it was soy protien then. Hah! I made the mistake of looking under the bun once. I saw the damn flakes, okay?
I think he'd be better off going for bulk goods instead of just individual MREs. Anyway, they aren't recommended for long term use, and he wants the place stocked for a three year stay. I have to admit, as maddening as he is, he's a thorough booger, and doesn't do things halfway. I'm going to enjoy spending his money.
Now, I have to figure out exactly how much preparation they'll be up to. I know that they'll have plenty of water (hooked the system up to their well, plus plenty of bottled water and purification tablets), and a functioning stove and oven. The thing is, is there anyone in that household who will actually cook? Well, he is putting in room for a dozen people. Maybe he intends for one to be a cook? Margo doesn't strike me as either Betty Crocker OR Martha Stewert.
February 13, 2003
Explained concept of 'complete protein' to Margo Callahan. She doesn't like rice much, when rice and beans were mentioned, smoothed hands over hips and twittered about too many starches. Refrained from telling her that malnutrition was a hell of a way to stay slim.
She doesn't like canned fruits and vegetables, or frozen fruits and vegetables, and looked blank when I mentioned dehydrated fruits and vegetables. This woman is going to be very, very miserable if she has to stay locked in a shelter for more than a couple of days.
Mentioned that Callahan had sent a vintage bottle of wine for early Valentine's present. Wished she could offer me some, but it was gone already. Big surprise. Showed me opal ring he also sent as Valentine's Day present.
Last thing I got for Valentine's Day was a miniature box of conversational hearts--from my Mom. I hate Valentine's Day.
February 14, 2003
I love Valentine's Day.
At work today received one dozen scarlet roses and one pound tin of Godiva chocolates, from someone with initials of HCB. Noticed officemates turning several interesting shades of green. Refused to tell them who had sent them. Tabitha guessed that Callahan was trying to keep me from being irritated enough to quit. Tucked in box was envelope. Read enclosed note and turned almost same shade as roses. Am storing note in journal. Am thinking gooshy teenage girl thoughts about buying carved wooden box to store it in. Where has my brain gone, and do I want it back?
February 15, 2003
Zima Feely, you're a self-delusional idiot.
There, right on the front page of the National Enquirer. H. Colin Baxter... or as they like to call him 'Honey' Baxter, with a tee-nintsy blonde draped over his lap at some film function. Big ass print headlines. 'Hollywood's Next Golden Couple?'.
I didn't intend to read the article. I usually avoid the gossip items, which means I don't read much of the Enquirer. The World Weekly News with the Bat Boy, and Chihuahuas saving people from pit bulls, and people falling 30,000 feet without a parachute and living, and little old grannies beating up muggers with their canes... that's more my style.
But I read this one, hating myself for it. Well, it had taken place almost a month ago. I suppose he could have broken up with her by now. Her name was Nala Wyndham. Nala. Ha. Named after a cartoon lioness. Okay, okay, so The Lion King came out a long time after she was born. Maybe not all that long. She looked about nineteen. Oops, but they always give the ages, and it said that she was twenty-two. And apparently they'd been dating for a couple of months.
She was some sort of starlette, though they don't use that term anymore--too unPC. I kept reading. Yeah, she'd been in that stupid teen comedy, Hijinx Hall. She played the stuck-up blonde ditz. What a stretch. Ooh, I'm getting even nastier than I usually am about thin, blonde, famous people. And she did share something in common with Colin--she got offed in a teen horror movie. I remember it now. She was the stuck-up blonde ditz who got drowned in a jacuzzi when the killer tied her hair around a peg near the tub's drain. Maybe I should give her credit for keeping her bikini top on... Naaah.
I shouldn't be upset by this. After all, he probably had a list of people to send Valentine's things to, and handed it over to his secretary. Of course, he'd have had to see it personally to tuck the letter in the flowers...
Stop building cloud castles. Just eat the damn chocolate, smell the damn flowers, and take it at face value.
It shouldn't hurt. Really, it shouldn't.
