Lord, Let Me Be A Call Girl

Hey Readers,
I'm going to make this super fast because Alfred is on his way, I haven't done dishes in like 4 days and I haven't seen him since....I feel like it's been 2 weeks....but that's probably a lie I can't keep track of the days.
....And about my last post...Yeah I was really drunk and when I said chail I meant jail but I think it was mostly understandable. And GUESS WHO ADDED ME ON FACEBOOK THE NEXT MORNING!? Clark Kent. Yeah bitches, I think I won that battle.
But let's talk about the real heart of the matter here...
World!
I WANT TO BE A PROSTITUTE!!!

Ok so maybe not, I don't want to be all hopped up on drugs and skulking around back alley ways but like a high class escort, a courtesan, a call girl! A girl in high demand that people have to go through a selection process to have the privilege to be with ME!
I know, I know if Gnomiomy is reading this she is probably shaking her head in shame but it is more likely she has chosen to disregard my blasphemous tendencies. P. Bob is probably just laughing her ass off and will threaten me later to tell my dad when she next sees him at the gym. (Don't tell Ivor, he'll never be able to handle the truth about his little girl)
But seriously, I think my real inner whore started to come out at a friend's birthday party this summer when we were drunk on chatroulette. Everyone on chatroulette is either looking for boobs or 12 year old boys....looking for boobs. And then every now and then you get a group of girls who are just looking for guys who are looking for boobs so that they can scream and go to the next page. Seems like a perfectly useful website, what could go wrong....(I'm rolling my eyes)
Anyways, drunk me was all down for the boobs. Luckily P.Bob was not so down, saved me a few times. I still got a couple though.
Well low and behold, Cecilly actually gets drunk the other day. Yes I have drunk since returning to school but not like this. It was the Vodka shots I think! BLAME MY WHORISHNESS ON PRISCILLA! <--she wanted to do the vodka shots and it was her vodka so naturally it's all her fault.Yup!
Right so I was super drunk and I go for a walk with some guys who I plan to make my new best guy friends because they're soooo freaking awesome, I'll let them know one day of my plans. And I come back and this kid is sitting in a director's chair in the living room. Like one of those old, very uncomfortable, wood and cloth, high up chairs. And he just looks at me and says "Cecilly, Dance!"
Naturally I can not dance, I lack the ability to normal human dance but there is one kind of dance I can do...."I only know how to pole dance" I say. Naturally I think I have figured my way out of this, not that drunk me really cares. And then Antonio, who is just sitting on the floor with this second year girl!
"Just imagine there's a pole!"
And I did you guys, I could see the pole in my head, I knew a routine! We had just learned it in Dirty Dancing last week! I WAS GOING FOR IT!!
And then sober Cecilly (who, shhh, sounds a lot like Alfred) was like 'girl what do you think you're doing, you're in public and these people will remember this tomorrow!' and drunk Cecilly was like 'but' and sober Cecilfred was like 'just say no!'
....So I said no, be proud my Gnomikins! I did not make a fool of myself and I did not strip for the Phoenix!

I hit Antonio for it today, he's not even sorry! Said he would get me next time....great now I gotta watch my back. But there's a whole month before the next party.

So maybe I won't be a prostitute....though I bet I'd make fantastic money and I would never have to worry about paying for school or loan debt....
I guess I'll just have to suffice with putting on ridiculous, ill fitted shades of lipstick, watching Secret Diaries of a Call Girl and taking pole dancing classes.
C'est la vie.
Alfred and I are going to Willows Beach, rain already ruined my hair today, what's a little walk gunna do.

POOPY LADY 2012!

Alright kiddies,
I will now impart upon you the struggles of being a front of house manager. I hope you're comfortable.

Let's start with yesterday when I survived 'Poopy Lady', the nickname of possibly the most troublesome Phoenix patron....I suppose I have to tell you how she got the nickname....

WELL!! A long very long time ago she came to see a show. Now she is a very old woman, should not be driving but she does and I have yet to hear any reports of her killing people. This lady has really really really bad arthritis. Her hands barely moved and her fingers are all curled inwards so she can't really pick anything up. So one day all those years ago she arrived late to a show (She is always late even though the shows have always started at 8) and she insisted that she must go to the bathroom.
From there we are a little lost as to the events but we assume that she did not actually sit down on the toilet but sort of squatted and went to the bathroom....but she missed and there was poop all over the floor. Naturally a terribly embarrassing incident but she tried to remedy it but picking it off the floor....only to kind of smear it around the stall instead because her hands don't work properly.
All speculation mind you we have no idea what truly happened other than a stall covered in poop was discovered shortly later.
So we seated this woman and started the show but all these people kept coming out and complaining about the smell in the theater. Turns out there was poop all down her pants and she wreaked. she got it all over the theater seat as well and they had to like steam dry clean it or something I don't really know of the story behind the seat.
Thus giving her the name, Poopy Lady. Remember this did not happen to me thank goodness!

However last night, it is 8 pm and the stage manager is just doing her last minute call when i see this very slow moving mass coming towards me from the parking lot....I JUST NOW IT IS HER! and as they got closer IT WAS! I had this second year shadowing me, she was kind of excited...that changed fast.
So they're already late, then she can't find her ticket because her hands don't work and she's kind of just scooping things out of her purse. And then her friend, who's not a very good friend just abandons her and runs off to sit down! This woman moves at about snail speed, that is not exaggerating that is fact!
I've got my ushers helping her into the theater and she's hacking! (well like quiet hacking but a soft equivalent of death) and she's spitting up into these napkins! We just make it to the theater door and she's like "I need more napkins!" and i'm like oh god! So I send my usher to get more paper towel from the bathroom and I begin helping her down the steps to her seat. WHY IS THIS WOMAN IN THE FRONT FREAKING ROW! Because her friend likes it there of course! Just freaking rude, no consideration for anyone else.
So I finally get her down and into the seat, hand her more tissue and start the show. Only 10 minutes late which is good considering most of her incidents start 20 minutes late.
All is well I count everything, all adds up I'm happy. Show gets out everyone is happy I am happy.....then stage management comes on the headsets asking for a manager to come into the theater and check on this woman. One of my ushers comes running out and is all freaked out by this woman who appears to be dying. I think to myself "HELL NO! If she's going to pick today to die! I'm bringing Sandra (boss lady) with me!" So I do. She's not dying.....just coughing and spitting everywhere.
They insist that they don't want the rest of their seats for the season changed they just enjoy causing trouble in the theater. And then PL insists on stopping to eat some chocolate to help her cough....that's not how it works crazy!
Takes about 20 minutes to get her out of the theater alone, and we're doing a sweep when the girl I've been mentoring comes up and tells me that there's a pile of wet napkins where she was sitting and a really wet cloth......NOOOOOO! GROSS!!! But there's literally no one else I can get to do it!
So I had to go into concession, grab some gloves and a plastic bag and go clean up this drool mess!
I. WANTED. TO. BARF! it was just awful, thank god it didn't smell or anything but like SERIOUSLY! That's not acceptable! Stay home! You shouldn't be driving anyways!
Then I came home and cried because I had no milk (Alfred drank it all) and I was scarred for life by the feeling of wet, squishy dish cloths.

Then of course tonight, Clark Kent once again failed to become Superman and decided to just not show up. SIGH! Unimpressed! Along with discovering other problems where Antonio messed up! And then I ended up with 5 dollars over the amount we should have had. But I'm pretty sure we'll find it tomorrow. I really shouldn't have put Mr. Kent's replacement in the concession, she's just not all there in the head.
Oh well.

I'm super tired and Alfred brought me more milk so I'm just going to have hot chocolate, a message and watch Shrek. Then to bed I go!
Love you followers
Night.