I'm off to see the Wizard...the wonderful Wizard of...wait...what?! I ain't off to see no wizard (capitol "W" or not). As I sit here pondering my existance...or just drinking my coffee, as it may be, I can't help but be a little annoyed that I'm heading off to work. Now, mind you I really enjoy working at Abercrombie. I can't say this enough...models people. I'm one, and I hang around them all day. It's a tough job to stand around looking pretty, helping costomers, and staring at hot girls.
For instance, yesterday. This girl (yes she was a costomer) was being all flirty with me. Not in so many words, but here eyes were definately saying a lot. I shouldn't have to mention this, but she was pretty hot. For future reference, all stories involving a girl, unless specifically told otherwise imply that "she" is hot. So I do the polite thing and ask how she is and if she's finding everything allright. She's a bit shy, and says that she's good, but I know what her eyes were saying. Somewhere in the realm of "you are the hottest thing I've ever seen...take me now."
Finally, she approaches, asks me about a size (not where I was planning on going, but nicely done reader). Then she does it...she shows me her breasts. Okay, well, less of that and more of mentioning she's shopping for her boyfriend who's a similar build to me. And there we have it folks. ANother hot girl taken away from me. All of our eye flirting was in vain. Big bummer.
What does this story have to do with anything? Well, it really doesn't. I mean, I could tell you all sorts of philosophical undertones, but I'm not.
On another note, I'll be home in Seattle starting tomorrow, December 18th until January 1st. Oh I'll still be writing, don't you worry. For those of you actually in Seattle that know me, let's hook up. For quick clarification, that means "let's meet up" (unless you're hot and single - or at least have a boyfriend that won't kill me...just kidding...unless you weren't kidding...man, how does it all end up back to hot girls? I really do have a one-tracked mind, don't I?).
Happy Sunday! May it be filled with lots of crazy last-minute shopping. You don't even want to know how many tourists I wanted to physically beat down around the Radio City Music Hall yesterday. I mean, seriously folks, packed like trying to get into a club that Brittany Spears in her hot days was performing at. Not only that, but so crowded along that block, that if Brittany Spears was performing, she was probably performing naked since so many people were pushing and shoving to get through (including yours truly...ahh, younger Brittany Spears naked...okay, I'm back). I literally wanted to physically kill or at least partially disfigure probably 20 to 25 dumb as shit tourists. Really folks, New York is cool and all, but it's no Brittany Spears naked.
