Rants & Essays
By The Lighthouse Keeper
So here I am at 10:00 a.m. on a Saturday... I'm missing
Animaniacs...and I'm at work after staying out until 3:00 a.m. this very same
morning. It's amazing to me some of the things people will just say sometimes.
It's kind of crazy actually.
Quick side note: Has anyone noticed that, unless you're
completely trashed when you get home, intimacy is usually more intense
after a night out at a club? Maybe it's just me. I dunno.
Anyways. Needless to say that even though we got home at
3:30, we didn't actually go to sleep until about 5:30. I had to be at work at
7:30...which means I needed to be up no later than 6:45. Going out last night
seemed to be a good idea upon conception, but I'm loathing myself for it
So I'm sitting at my desk minding my own business...just me
and the bags under my eyes and that wierd, psuedo-hung-over "drawn" look about
my person...sipping my coffee and reading the MSNBC News. This guy (I honestly
don't even know his name) comes up to my desk and says, "So where did
you go last night?"
I figured I looked like shit. So it was kind of obvious that
I had not had a lot of sleep and even though I normally don't speak before noon
on any given day, much less one where I've only had an hour of sleep, I
humored him. "The Castle." I said, and went about reading the news hoping this
person would wander off and bug someone else.
"The Castle? Isn't that
some sort of like...gothic
Now I was getting a little irritated and wished I'd just not
spoken in the first place. But... hey... I am a good sport. (SHRUG) So I sighed
and said, "Yeah. It is."
Now this is the part that got me. This next part is
the part that left me with that feeling of my eyeballs throbbing after he said
it. This next part is the reason I really don't like people as a group.
The guy says, after a few seconds of silence, "Are there a lot of freaky
I kind of snickered one of those completely involuntary
snickers of complete disdain...you know the ones...the ones that sound like
Here's some guy I don't know from Adam's cat
doesn't know the first thing about me...and I dunno, call me a prude,
but I honest to God couldn't believe he said that. Needless to say I didn't
dignify his comment with a response. Sometimes it's amazing to me what
people...in complete innocence or ignorance...will say to perfect strangers.
Maybe it's the sleep deprivation married to the slight hang-over that's making
me a little more irritable than normal, but I found myself really wanting to
grab hold of this guy's ear and twist it 'till he hollered.
Sometimes I feel detached from my subculture... maybe I'm
growing out of touch with things...like maybe I'm getting too old (residual
birthday depression, there.) to really elate in the meaning of the Latin "Carpe
Noctem." And you know...it only takes one clueless mundane at the right time to
say the wrong thing to snap me back into a sudden realization that I am not
like "them." We are not like them.
Yeah, asshole. There's a lot of "freaky bitches" there...and
you know what? Most of them have more class in their corset laces than you'll
ever have in your entire life. Now go away before I bury my stir-stick up your
snoutish little nose.
And they call us freaks. *sigh* Sometimes I just
don't know anymore.