The scene: the express (10 items or less!!!) line at the Hunt Valley Giant. The players: handsome early 60’s male patron, smartly dressed, no wedding ring. Attractive late 50’s female clerk, requisite Giant uniform, nice hair, no wedding ring. The exchange:

Man: Helloo there!

Woman: Hi. (Checking items.)

Man: So, how did your football teams do this weekend?

Woman: (Barely perceptible pause) Oh, I don’t follow football.

Man: (Who’s got nothing) Awww, what are you, some kind of… (panic setting in) non…sports…liking…person?

Woman: (Not looking up) …

Man: (Grabbing for anything at this point) …Well, college basketball is really my thing.

I could only stand behind this poor sap and shake my head quietly as his ass caught fire and plunged into the ground. I’m no playa like Engelbert Humperdink, but I understand that A. it’s not smart to include sports in your opening line. Unless you’re hitting on a woman you’re playing sports with, leave the football chatter at home. B. have a follow-up line to your line. Chances are you’ll get shot down, and sometimes it’s better to have a good comeback—women like the chase, and if you’re interesting, you may get a second chance. C. Don’t follow a brush-off with an insult. Duh. D. Enough about you. What does she like? Why don’t you ask her, genius? She doesn’t give a crap about whether or not you like college basketball.

All of these things I wanted to explain to this poor guy, who may or may not have been trying to git some, but I figured he was already shamed enough as it was.

Yesterday afternoon I continued the Blue room demolition and reached the point where I can start snaking wire. While I made noise and yanked plaster down, Jen bundled up on the bed and drank TheraFlu to try and ward off the evil nasties. Outside, the freezing rain made an icy shell on top of the snow we got Saturday night.

Movie Review. Underworld was an entertaining, if not derivative movie about vampires and werewolves; the chick from Pearl Harbor ran around shooting guns trying to save the singer dude from Creed. “Romance story” this movie ain’t, but I can see how people could get “sexy” from the sheer amount of leather pants worn in the film. Thankfully, kung-fu was kept to an absolute minimum in favor of gunplay. But yeah, you’ve seen this movie before.