Fifteen Pieces of Flair

Sometimes it's just hard to stay focused. You can only see the weekend ahead of you. You could care less about reconciling the budget report sent to you by the comptroller. You don't really want to answer the questions of your staff because you've already showed them how to do it eight times. You just want to be at your holiday weekend destination, enjoying your family, savoring that big pulled pork sandwich with homemade cole slaw from your brother the BBQ king's grill, throwing back a few Pabst Blue Ribbons, laughing hysterically at the redneck ways of your surroundings, while simultaneously loving the huge amounts of Southern hospitality. You truly understand that human beings were not meant to sit in little cubicles staring at computer screens all day, filling out useless forms and listening to eight different bosses drone on about about mission statements

Case in point - the way I spent my morning, wasting time on a "popular social networking website", that allows millions of people to procrastinate the workday away, everyday, by posting useless survey bulletins like this one:

Date:	Aug 31, 2007 10:07 AM
Subject:	If they take my stapler then I'll set the building on fire.
	Any student can write a survey about their favorite class, or their secret crush, or how nice their car is that their parents paid for. This is the survey for us that are already grown up. 1. Do you have a college degree? Yes 2. What was the amount of your last electric bill? $63 3. Do you have life insurance? Some kind of policy through work. 4. How many hours per week do you work? I'd say in a given week I probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, work. 5. Have you ever attended a Toastmasters event? PC Load Letter? What the fuck does that mean? 6. What is your commute to work each day (one way)? 7 miles, 15-20 minutes depending on traffic. 7. Favorite Place for Happy Hour? Chotchkie's is pretty sweet. 8. What time do you get up in the morning for work? 7 ish 9. What is your definition of sleeping in late? 10:00 10. Do you check your cholesterol on a yearly basis? no 11. How large was your first cell phone? Medium sized 12. Does your employer provide good health insurance? It's not terrible, but not great either. 13. Did you use the internet to write a research paper? Yes 14. Have you attended a HS reunion? No 15. How many jobs have you held in your professional career? 5 16. Have you ever been fired or laid off from a job? Laid off 17. What is your favorite drink? Non-alcoholic, fountain Dr. Pepper. Liquor, Bellini or a Chambord Sour. Beer, Samuel Adams Winter, although Michelob Light is quickly making a rise on the list. 18. What is the most expensive bottle of wine that you have in your residence? Probably around $15. 19. Have you been divorced? No 20. How old were you when you stopped getting ID'd for Alcohol? I still do. 21. Favorite casino? Well, I haven't been to Vegas, but I do really like one of the riverboats here. 22. Are you happier now than when you were in high school? I was always happy, but I'm definitely happier with Maverick in my life. 23 Did you ever have Hypercolor shirts? No 24. Do you remember when Michael Jackson was black and was attracted to older people? Billie Jean is not my lover. She's just the girl who claims that I am the one. But the kid is not my son. 25. Do you remember when MTV actually played music videos? Yes 26. Have you had a will made? No 27. What music was in your cd / cassette player when you were 16? It wasn't that no-talent ass clown Michael Bolton. 28. Favorite fancy / upscale restaurant? One of the local celebrity's places. 29. How long has it been since you attended a kegger? About a year 30. Where were you when you found out about 9-11? At work. I'd just been delivered flowers because I was trying to have a birthday. 31. Do you have any children yet? No 32. Do you think the "younger crowd" will read this? Sure, why not.

Asshat

As you, my loyal readers, should surely know I am a lifelong Cardinals fan. Contrary to what people might think Maverick's loyalty to another team does not sway me one bit. We've both become closeted fans of the other's team, but that team will never take the spot of our first baseball loves. Throughout my entire life (no, I'm still not telling just how long that is) the one constant has been my love for the Cardinals. I truly bleed red; Cardinals red.

However that doesn't mean there are not things about the team that I don't hate. For instance, there's a certain man -- scratch that -- there's a certain immature, pompous, annoying, overly cocky, overpaid, defensive abomination, offensive hacker, undeserving, beneficiary of serious nepotism, asshat patrolling left field in Busch Stadium who fits this bill. To put it mildly I cannot stand Chris Duncan. Trust me when I say these feelings are not those of just the casual fan observing his play. Yes, I think he sucks donkey balls as a ball player, but mostly my personal interactions (yes, plural) with him have been horrific. Everything from watching him be a drunken idiot to witnessing him attempt to pick up my friends with the worst "don't you know who I am" type lines to seeing him be asked to leave bars to rude interactions with fans just wanting to say hello.

For those of you who missed it let me share with you what he felt was a grown up, appropriate World Series celebration activity. During the clubhouse party Mr. I Got My Job Because I Share My Daddy's Last Name decided it would be a good idea to pose using the World Series Trophy as a penis. Do not adjust your screens, you read that correctly. Chris Duncan really did dry hump the trophy, just like a 12 year old boy. What a douchebag.

To my extreme satisfaction the Riverfront Times has been doing an excellent job of making a fool out of this jackass the entire season. In case you have not had the pleasure of enjoying this weekly masterpiece, please do so now.

Who Does That - Part XVI

Ahh, the dog days of summer are upon us. A time to bask in the sun, enjoy some hearty barbecue, drink frosty beverages by the pool and loathe the humidity all at the same time. Everything, and everyone, is happier in the summer. Things just glow with a beautiful light. Or so it seems.

Then there you are standing at the counter at the local Walgreen's, patiently waiting to pick up your prescription, when you notice the person in front of you and their stank ass, flaky skinned, brittle toe nailed, dirt covered feet hanging out for all the world to see.

Just because it's hot outside does not give you permission to subject others to your lack of self grooming. If you don't like pedicures, can't afford them, or just plain can't make yourself take care of your bodily hygiene then please do not make the rest of want to hurl by sporting this disgusting trait as if it's some sort of runway fashion.

Who does that?

Freedom

It's my last day working in the hell hole. Everyone rejoice with me!

Just under one month until I move a little over 200 miles away and still no place to live. Does anyone have a box I can borrow?

Weekday Update

I was offered the job. After some negotiation, I accepted the position and will be relocating within about a month. Lots of items on the to do list for this one, but don't fret I'll be back with plenty to add over the weekend.

The Lady in the Magic Box

As you, my loyal readers, are aware, I have been searching for a new job for awhile now. Over the last several months, I've had contact from headhunters, a couple interviews and several phone interviews with potential employers.

Through this process I've learned a lot about myself and where I want to take my career. I've also accomplished some great networking and had the pleasure of getting acquainted with some wonderful people. However, the positions that have been available haven't exactly been the right fit. I've been extended offers that were not something I could see myself being happy doing, and I've found positions I really liked, but didn't like the location, not enough experience, etc. I'm hoping this is about to change.

This morning I interviewed with an organization I truly believe in. I am very familiar with their work, and I fully support their cause. It's the kind of place you wake up happy to go to work, proud that you are a part of such a good cause. The position is one that I am completely qualified for. My experience is more than sufficient. It would be a step up from my current level; more of a management type role. But I know I'm ready for it.

The interview went well. It was held via video-conference with the VP, who could not get away from her office at another one of their campuses. I must admit interviewing with a television was quite bizarre, but I immediately felt a sense of comfort with the VP. This feels like the right fit; let's just hope they feel the same way.

I should hear from her by Wednesday of next week, for a second interview one week from today. Keep your fingers crossed that interview goes just as well.

If You Were an Appliance

Interview tomorrow at 11:00 am. I hate to admit it, but I'm a little nervous. I hate all those interview questions. No jinxies, so I'll provide more details once it's over.

Wish me luck.

Who Does That -- Part XV

After dating a little over a year, my friends Marcia and Doug recently decided to stop seeing each other. This has been a rather difficult transition for Marcia, as Doug was her first real relationship and she became quite attached.

Against the advice of many of her friends, Marcia continues to have contact with Doug. She answers his texts messages, she speaks with him on the phone, she sends emails back and forth while they're working, she is even still friendly with his buddies. This nonsense continues to add to her heartache. It does nothing more than give her false hope of a future reconciliation.

Doug is perpetuating this situation by being a narcissistic fucktard. Since he and Marcia decided to part ways he has been pursuing another acquaintance of mine, Molly Slutpants. However, he denies anything is brewing with Ms. Slutpants and keeps contacting Marcia to keep her on the back burner.

This past weekend Doug and his fucktard buddies took Molly Slutpants and a few of her closest hookerific friends to his family's lake cabin. Around 2:30 AM Sunday, Doug called Marcia. When she answered the phone he simply asked her, "are you horny?". Much to this friend's happy surprise, Marcia rebuffed his horrible attempt to lure her back in.

It has since come to light that on Saturday night Doug attempted to get Molly Slutpants in his bed with him. Perhaps her last name is not completely fitting, as she apparently only messed around with him a little and left him feeling a tad "blue". This can only lead one to believe that Doug contacted Marcia in the middle of the night as he thought he had a guaranteed cure for his horny problems. What a fucktard thing to do.

Who does that?

Who Does That -- Part XIV

This morning a very reclusive, snippy and just plain rude lady in another department asked me the procedure to do something.

I told her; "I've never done that procedure. I'm not sure, but I know the lady who used to do your job does know."

Let's all take a moment to remember the lady who used to do her job not only still works here, but her desk is only a mere ten feet from reclusive, snippy and just plain rude lady's desk.

Cut to three hours later when my phone rings and reclusive, snippy and just plain rude lady has apparently spent the last three hours calling everyone else at our company, except lady who used to do her job, because she doesn't like lady who used to do her job. Now she's asking me what to do from here and if can I help her research it.

This is what I think about that:

"OH MY GOD! Stop being a fucking seventh grader, swallow your pride, get your lazy ass out of the chair and take the five minutes it would take to go ask the lady who does know!"

Who does that?

Signs

Excerpts from an email sent to all staff by the President of my organization. (As usual, names and identifying details have been altered to protect the innocent.) Take special note of the time it was sent in relation to the time of the meeting.


From: Unpopular New President
Sent: Tuesday, April 04, 2006 11:47 AM
To: Staff
Subject: Update on Budget Committee Recommendations

I invite you to read through the following update on the recommendations from the Budget Committee and other budget progress. I have scheduled a lunchtime session from 12:30 to 1:30 today in usual place meetings are held at my organization; please feel free to stop by if you have questions or would like to discuss this further.

To: The Formerly a Great Place to Work, But Not so Much Anymore Community
From: Unpopular New President

Re: Budget Committee Recommendations and Budgeting Update

Date: April 4, 2006

Two weeks ago, the Budget Committee completed its work for the semester, and forwarded to me a set of recommendations for increasing revenue and looking for efficiencies in spending. I greatly appreciate the time and intensive study the committee invested in understanding the complicated structure of our budget and finances, and their open and honest discussions of some very challenging issues. My thanks to each member of the committee, and especially to Token Staff Member, who chaired the committee. I also want to thank all those who provided input to the committee, without which the committee would not have been able to do its work. This process clearly demonstrates that Formerly a Great Place to Work, But Not so Much Anymore's tradition of shared governance and community dialogue, so vital to our nature, continues to work well.

I have spent some time reviewing the recommendations, so I could share with you some ideas on how we plan to proceed. Below, I have listed each recommendation and how I plan to act on each one. Before getting into those details, let me say that the recommendations provide excellent advice on managing our finances that go well beyond the confines of next year’s budget, which we are obligated to set within the next month. These recommendations will prove most valuable as each area considers how to meet budget targets unanimously agreed upon last week by me and the cabinet.

Recommendation: Administrative Costs
A review of upper/mid-level administration and other professional positions should be conducted to determine if these positions are necessary and/or worth their cost.

Action: There is no doubt that we have seen increases in staffing levels. Going forward, we will tighten our hiring processes, look for ways to restructure ourselves to reduce staff — particularly when attrition provides opportunities for examination. I also intend to consider instances in which staff assignments can be pegged to revenue generation. I recently established a position control committee including VP #1, VP #2 and VP #3, and have asked that committee to propose a procedure for position review, which I hope to see by June 1. I will ask that the task force maintain a principle in our procedure that we minimize adverse consequences to those who may be affected.

Evian is Naive Spelled Backward

Sometimes reality really does bite.

When you're in your early 20s, and fresh out of college, the world is at your feet. Everything is new and exciting. You're ready to take on the world. The thought of starting a career that provides a real paycheck (not just that minimum wage crap you've been used to since you were 16) is a little scary, but at the same time, inspiring. The first real career position offer comes along and you happily accept. For the next few years you trudge through the daily grind of being the peon with a degree, but not enough experience to really matter yet. You put in your time, and learn the ropes, until you've gotten everything you possibly can out of the entry level position. The job has become just that, a job. It's no longer a challenge. It's time to move on to the next level.

Welcome to my life.

As most of you know, I've been looking for a new job (and a move to a new city) for awhile now. I put the search on hold around the first of the year, as most companies don't do a lot of hiring around that time. I started the search again in late February, and it's slowly starting to gain steam. I've had three phone interviews since that time; one of which sounded quite promising. Although, we'll see where they go from here.

Last night I was scouring a website, dedicated to my profession, which posts job openings all over the country. I realized that I've been missing at least one entire industry, that has hundreds of possibilities. I couldn't believe that I wasn't thinking outside of my current industry box. My profession, not unlike HR, is utilized in so many facets and I've been suffering from career tunnel vision. No longer will I be doing that. My eyes have been opened up to a plethora of new opportunities. Here's to hoping it means an express lane to my new challenge. I need it.

Beauty is Only Scalp Deep

The following is an AIM conversation I had this morning with one of my best girls, whom we'll call Aphrodite. Aphrodite is the cosmetologist, fashionista, sex kitten, diva of my friends. Such a trooper, she's always on call to bring her salon to a friend's home in the midst of a fashion or style emergency.


Hera: oh my gawd!
Hera: you have to help me!
Aphrodite: oughto
Aphrodite: what's the problem?
Hera: you know that one grey hair i've had since i was about 18?
Hera: the one we always laughed at?
Aphrodite: yes. what about it?
Hera: it's not so funny anymore
Hera: i was looking in the mirror this morning and i noticed there are more
Hera: i counted; there are 11!
Hera: and most of them aren't even grey. they've passed that right up and are white!
Hera: wtf?!?! i'm only in my mid 20s
Hera: this shit cannot stay
Hera: help me please!
Aphrodite: haha
Ahprodite: calm down
Aphrodite: i'll be over with wine and color after work
Hera: that's why you rock my world!

Hubcaps, Pocket Rockets and Weiners

Ahh, Mardi Gras.

Weekend totals

Girlfriends celebrating together: 6
Bottles of champagne emptied for mimosas: 5
Bottles of rum and vodka consumed: 2
Cans of beer chugged: 35
Buckets of hurricanes drank: Lost count after the 5th round
New friends made: Too many to count
Boobs flashed: 3
Weiners shown: 5
Porta potty stops: At least 7
Persons who puked: 1
Persons having a good time: Everybody

On Deck

Pitchers and catchers report today! WOO-HOO!

T minus 45 days, 8 hours and 44 minutes until the first regular season game!

Negative Ghostrider

February 14th. Ahh, what a lovely day. The birds are chirping, people are happy, florists are busily delivering the arragements so many men agonized over (Roses? Tulips? Lilies? Red? White? A dozen?), love is in the air, it's a happy day. Well, for many people it's a happy day. Looking around the office at the few displays of affection that have already arrived, it just makes me miss the man in my life, henceforth known as Maverick, even more.

For those of you not in the know, our relationship is a long distance one. Yes, it stinks, but that's our situation. We don't know what the future holds (no one does, right?), and we're not focusing on that. Even with the distance, the relationship we have is great. We make it work quite well. But, I freely admit there's not a day that goes by that I don't wish we weren't separated.

About a week ago I was able to spend an extended weekend with Maverick. Everything about that weekend was fabulous. He took me out to incredible dinners (best Coconut Shrimp I've ever tasted). We had ice cream at a great creamery. We curled up with movies, beer, Sangria and Goldfish. He even went shopping with me (Happily, too. Can you believe that?). But, the best part of that weekend was just being able to be together without a care in the world.

I miss him terribly today. It's crazy, and almost sad, that such a commercialized, Hallmark holiday can have that effect, but it's true. I try to get through the days by not thinking about how much I wish we were together, and hearing everyone's date plans for tonight makes that impossible.

Who Does That -- Part XIII

Where - Popular, local sandwich joint.

Who - Hungry, and in a hurry, gal who dines at this particular restaurant at least once a week and obvious new girl working the cash register.

When - Lunch time on a Wednesday.

What - Hungry Gal approaches register, attempts to place her order, but when she gets two words into it is abruptly stopped by New Cash Register Girl who asks "for here or to go?"

Hungry Gal thinks "hmm, since I come here so often I know that you all usually do that at the end of the order placing process, but you're new so I'll humor you" and then experiences the following dialogue.

Hungry Gal: "To go please, and a tur..."

New Cash Register Girl: "What's your name?"

Hungry Gal: "Hera."

New Cash Register Girl: "Lullabelle?"

Hungry Gal: "Hera."

New Cash Register Girl: "Capricorn?"

Hungry Gal (surprised at the level of confusion): "Hera."

New Cash Register Girl: "And how would you spell that?"

Hungry Gal (becoming slightly irritated): "H-e-r-a. I would like a turk..."

New Cash Register Girl: "H-e-r-a?"

Hungry Gal (irritation level rising): "Yes."

New Cash Register Girl: "Okay, what would you like?"

Hungry Gal (growing more and more irritated): "A turkey and roast beef sandwich on wheat with provolone cheese, lettuce and spicy mustard, a side of potato salad and a sweet tea; to go please."

New Cash Register Girl (very slow): "A turkey and roast beef sandwich on wheat with provolone cheese, lettuce and spicy mustard, a side of potato salad and a sweet tea; to go?"

Hungry Gal (definitely irritated at this point): "Yes."

New Cash Register Girl: "Okay, your total is $6.34."

(Hungry Gal hands New Cash Register Girl two five dollar bills)

New Cash Register Girl (very, very confused accepts the currency): "Out of ten dollars?"

Hungry Gal (about to blow a fuse): "Yes, out of ten dollars."

New Cash Register Girl (even more slow): "Your change is threeee dooollllaaarrrss and siiixxxxtttyy siiiixxx cents?"

Hungry Gal (literally fuming): "Yes, honey. That's correct."

Why - Who in the hell knows? New Cash Register Girl took what should have been a forty-five second sandwich ordering process and turned into five minutes of stupidity out of Hungry Gal's life she can never get back. All she wanted was the usual turkey and roast beef sandwich with the stuff on it, some of that excellent house specialty potato salad and a glass of the best sweet tea this side of the Mason-Dixon Line. What she got instead was annoyance and a completely jacked up order; ham is not turkey, mayonnaise is not spicy mustard and cheddar cheese is not provolone.

Who does that?

Burn!

I freaking hate it when your daily website changes the design without any warning. I could go to that damn site and click around with my eyes closed, but no, you just had to go and mess with my mind. Bite me ESPN.com!

Is it time for Thursday evening $10 Martinis and Manicures yet?

Say It, Say We Are Unagi

Five girlfriends got together for dinner and drinks tonight; three hours of laughter and $147.89 worth of sushi, beer and sake later they emerged from the restaurant. A few items overheard from their corner table include:

"Tight jeans fool you everytime; it's like a Jack in the Box."
"Pinch me off some of the green stuff."
"Was it a picture of the whole thing, or just the wiener?"
"I don't give a damn; scabies are just part of the fun."
"Shut your piehole and show me your wiener."

But the best overheard tidbit came from the newbie. Quite happily, it turns out the batteries provided by the vibrator store were just inadequate. She had an epiphany, switched them with some high grade Duracells, there is plenty of power now and all is good.

You're Killing Me Smalls

Apparently, we've hit a major budget deficit here at work. I say apparently, because most of us cannot fathom how a budget surplus, when one president retires, can suddenly turn to a $5 million budget deficit when the new president takes over and "re-analyzes the books". Let's just say there's been an unofficial/curiosity look at the books, amongst a few inside accounting type people, and they strongly disagree, too. To make a long story short it just seems as if the public broadcasting of said financial situation, and continual public use of recently retired president's name as the reason for the "poor financial outlook", just seems like a crappy attempt to drag someone else's name through the mud.

The "budget problems" have caused many changes and cuts. Let's take a moment to talk about a few of them, shall we?

Change # 1:
We received an email from Facilities informing us that the cost of new trash bags is simply too daunting to handle. Therefore, office receptacles will no longer be emptied daily. We are now being asked to not throw any garbage in our office receptacles. Instead, we should carry items to the lone recycle bin within each building, or to the trash barrel located in the only staff workroom of each building. Rest assured those will continue to be emptied every other day.

Hmmmmm. What do I have to say to that? I'll tell you what I have to say to that; "MY ASS!" You really think I'm going to be carrying my garbage all over this freaking place to save the fifty cents one trash bag costs? I don't think so, and if you do think so, well then why don't you pass me the bowl you're smoking from.

Change # 2:
Departmental budgets have been cut, so new office supplies are simply out of the question. Basically, bring your own pen and pad of paper.

Riiiigggghhhhttt. To that one I say, "BITE ME!"

Change # 3:
Staff members are being asked to keep a daily log of their activities; not just a list of tasks they completed, but a minute by minute account of their day. (8:00 to 8:15 - I emailed Stick Up Her Ass in Accounts Receivable, 8:15 to 8:45 - I met with Tells Lame Jokes the Senior Accountant).

What do I think about this change? I think my list will look a little something like the following.

8:15ish - Arrived at work, like every other asshole here does at this time of day.
8:15ish to 8:45ish - Checked email and talked with cubicle mate about cocktails from last night.
8:45ish to 10:45ish - Surfed the web a bit and completed TPS report, but forgot the cover letter.
10:45ish to 10:50ish - Excused myself to the ladies' room as I am on my period and, well, I needed to take care of some female business. Is that okay, or am I supposed to check in and show you my tampon for approval first?
10:50ish-11:50ish - Bitched with co-workers about this fucking kindergarten bullshit and discussed what a fucking dumbass you are for attempting to make us do it.
11:50ish-1:15ish - Took an extended lunch to talk more extensively about what a dumbass you are.
1:15ish-3:30ish - Surfed the web some more, this time looking for a new job, and completed another needless report you requested, that you could've completed yourself, if it weren't for the fact that you're too much of a moron to even email.
3:30ish-3:50ish - Excused myself to the ladies' room again, but remembered that I needed approval first, so I went to your office. I had to wait for you to get your nose out of the president's ass, but was finally able to show you my tampon. Whew! It's a good thing you approve of the Playtex brand.
3:50ish-5:00ish - Packed up my desk because this is bullshit, and I won't be back tomorrow.

Do you think that list will work? Yeah, me neither. Now that the holidays are over, the job search/extreme to desire to move somewhere new is back in full swing. I turn to you, my avid readers, and ask you to help me, please. Here it is; toss your dart and tell me where it lands.

Who Does That -- Parts IX, X, XI and XII

A collection from the last few weeks of blogging absence; everything from moronic drivers to "fashion" choices to horrible attempts to pick up a woman.

Part IX

You're peacefully driving along in your car, enjoying the Top 20 on XM Radio, when suddenly you're greeted by a rogue car entering your lane and coming within about six inches of you and your life. You slam on the brakes, narrowly escaping untimely death, only to realize the reason you almost saw the light was because lady in the lane next to you is reading a book! No, she's not just attempting to glance at a piece of paper for a split second; she's freaking reading a book! Did you hear me? She's reading a book! I'm talking dome light on, book opened up on the steering wheel, flat out, reading a book!

Who does that?

Part X

Excuse me. Little girls. Yes, I'm talking to you three little fourteen year old girls, half dressed in hoochie mama outfits, blocking the walkway in the mall because you're standing there talking quite loudly on the speakerphone about your boy troubles. And I do mean boy. That's right, you all can talk about what little Tommy told Susie you said about liking little Johnny tomorrow in Algebra. Stop acting like little morons, in the middle of the mall, and get out of the way. But before you go, could one of you dial up your mom and hand me the phone so I can ask her what the hell she's doing while you're at the mall advertising your goods for two dollars?

Who does that?

Part XI

Oh look there she is, our own little Pamela Anderson right here in Missouri. How are those new boobs treating you? Really, that good, huh? They upped your take at the strip club every night by that much? Well, who knew? That's so interesting.

Did those new boobs also make you think that I'd really want you, the skank who cheated with my best friend's man while she knew he was in a committed relationship, to come over and say hello to me? Did those new boobs really make you think that I would be okay with that? And did those new boobs really make you think that those fake Birkenstocks worn with black socks was a good fashion statement?

Who does that?

Part XII

You're out enjoying the rare, and beautiful, 70 degree day in the middle of January. You're running your butt off on the nature trail; feeling the burn. You've just finished cranking it up your third steep ass, quarter mile long hill, therefore, you're sweating, red faced, doubled over and really hurting. When all of a sudden, some guy decides he wants to attempt to hit on you. What in the hell?

First of all, I'm not looking. But let me assure you that if I were looking, I certainly wouldn't be doing it while dressed in workout clothes (which includes a ratty t-shirt advertising my uncle's auto repair shop), face as red as a beet, sweating my ass off and doubled over grabbing my thighs and butt. Okay, okay, maybe the grabbing isn't helping you and your dumbness. But, believe me, it's a "holy insanely on fire thighs and sore butt Batman! Wow, that's going to hurt in the morning" grab. It's most definitely not an invitation to "please come and tap it" grab. Do you not see that I'm dying here? Can you not hear me gasping for air and asking my friend to please kill me now?

If a woman is working out, and dying, you're more than welcome to ask her if she would like a drink of water. You can certainly ask if she would like a ride to her car so she doesn't have to walk back. But you cannot attempt to hit on her.

Who does that?