winkgirl4's Diaryland
Diary
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Happy Birthday to Me.
Happy Birthday to me... Happy Birthday to me� Happy Birthday�dear�Oh, fuck it. What�s the use?Apparently, the tranny in my car is slipping so it will need to be replaced, or so says the new guy looking at my car. The new, young guy also informed me that: *** I had a really nice phone voice and that he could tell I must be a really nice girl. ***That he could resurface my fly wheel [hello] for one third of the cost the old man quoted me. ***Not only is he part owner of this company but he also owns his own home. ***�Yep, that clutch sure is out. Looks like we are going to have to replace it but [he�s] got connections, we could probably get the clutch for something like $70 (as compared to the $150 the old man claimed.) ***Oh yeah, he was a real italian. Yeah, from the old country. *** He could probably get this done within the next couple of days, maybe Friday at the latest. ***In fact it would be �No problem� because he�s in such good shape- you know, from the martial arts he practices four times a week.Oh for the fucking love of god. Just fix my fucking car! I don�t care who your family is or whether you own a run down shanty in a financially depleted town. I don�t care what shape you are in or what kind of cars you both drive and fix all on your wittle bitty own. I don�t care what kind of better prices you can offer me over the old man. �Okay, so that was a lie. Give me a good deal. Give me a really good deal. But fix my fucking car. Could you do that, please? Take your rich, fit, italian ass and slide it under my car and fix it. PLEASE. On top of that, a creep old client came on to me yesterday. Ewwwe. �Oh, you look like you are having a bad day. I think you need a hug.� �Uh, no. not really. I�m fine. But thank you.� �No. You need a hug. I can tell.� He walks around behind my desk, his arms out stretched and I�m trapped. Oh sure, he could just be a harmless guy who just likes to give hugs, right? We are in small town Oklahoma. We aren�t anything if not friendly. But no. This guy leans in to try to kiss me. Ick. Ick. Ick. Could you not do that please? �Oh, excuse me,� I say, �do you mind, but my sister needed me to call her right back�. Uh�yeah.�yeah. Oh, yeah, I�m ready to go. You�ll be up here in about five minutes? Okay. Yeah, I�ll be ready when you get here. Thanks.� After a comment about bending me over my desk and spanking me (because of a bad placement I made with his company last month) and one last attempt to be playful, he seems to notice that I�m hell bent on gathering my things to go. He says, �Well, I guess I�d better go. Wouldn�t want your sister to catch you getting a spanking.� Ewwwwwe. Ick. Ick. Ick. On the bright side, today, I got a new number. I�m thirty two years old, today. 32. That a good number isn�t it? I think it�s going to be a good year. Two months from now I�ll be in the state I love with the man I love, starting a new life. Of course I�m not getting to spend my birthday with him and one week from today he won�t be getting to spend his birthday with me but in two months we�ll have something better. In two months, with any luck, we�ll have the prospect of spending the rest of our birthdays with each other. In the same state. In the same town. In the same home. With each other. Sharing a life. It makes the sadness of this birthday a little easier to deal with. Oh, and I have a secret that I�m just dying to tell someone. Want to know what it is? Email me.
4:42 p.m. - 2003-06-05
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