I’m Rich Bitch
Remember that video game survey I told you all about yesterday? Well today was the today it was to go down, so my dad and I hopped on BART and tardily locomoted into the heart of the city, keep in mind there was about 30 or 7 stops on the way, but not one interupted my sleep and when I did wake up my dad took this wicked awesome pic of our reflection. Oh and I took this pic with a nice statue. So anyway I got there, and headed 15 stories up into the conference room where I signed in and got my own cute little name tag I could stick on my kashmir turtleneck. There were a buncha dudes sitting around, a mixed bunch to say the least, big nerds little nerds, red nerds, blue nerds, all these nerds shared the desire to get home as soon as possible and unpause their Halo game. I had different interests, while everyone, and I do mean everyone was busy playin video games on their cell phones, I was stuffin my pockets full of pens, the nice black ballpoint ones. Oh and did I mention there were sandwiches? Lots and lots of sandwiches, nice ones, with bread. I ate the sandwiches, I even ate the eggplant one, I had never had eggplant, the eggplant was good, so were the sandwiches, as was the bread. So all the while, everyone was too damn shy to get up and grab a sammich so I was pretty much cleanin house. Yeh my only rival was this mom who came in, a real meat-eaters delight, this big momma had to of had optimal towing capacity, I mean she was heavy. Anyway she was breathin lika uhh…something that exhales more than it would inhale, anyway, no one was sayin anythin till I mouthed “Darth Vader” and that finally gotta rise outta those game heads.
So by that time the people were ushering us inside the table so we could get the show on the road. One by one these guys were promenading into the room, bein read off from a list, than the lady stopped callin names and shut the door, there were still about five of us outside the door. Than she says how they have more than enough people so she paid us and I split. How you like that? A hundred bucks for eating sandwiches and crackin jokes about Lard Vader! Notta bad gig.
I got downstairs in the lobby, suspiciouslly loitered around a bit, made the security guys sweat a little bit. They kept eyein me as if I had an invisible turbin on that only they could see. One of em asked me if I needed help, and I said no. Keep in mind I wasn’t tryin to give these guys trouble or anything. So I was about to reach into my jacket pocket to grab my phone and I sware one of made this frantic leap toward me shakin his head and lookin around, and said “Oh sorry, we can’t be too careful.” In some ways I felt thankful that the fine city of San Francisco was able to protect and serve me, but than again I also felt a little wet from the piss that was soppin up my socks.
My pops and I ventured up the street, and up what seemed like every street in the rain, past the lit buildings, past the “pain” sign all the way to a resturaunt called the “Stinking Rose” which, as all Italians know is a euphamism for the almightly “Garlic.” The cool thing about this place is that they make everything with an Italian-load of garlic, garlic bread, garlic chicken, garlic garlic, and I sware to allah they had garlic ice cream, no joke. They had cool chandaleers that were different at every table, and big gypsy mirrors. The food was good, but I knew by the time I got home I’d be sittin on “The Stinky Toilet.” My heart is gonna burn baby.
So that was my day, and now I’m 100 bucks richer, I might spend some on a new host so keep checkin in and tell me if you notice a faster, more spacious NBHQ.