So, the Fourth was a little while ago. Three days ago to be exact. Most people spend their Fourths with the family, doing BBQs, watching fireworks blow up, being patriotic, etc. Guess what I did. I worked for twelve hours doing security for a lame concert. I was the front gate man. I was there to make sure all the druggies, hippies, and weirdos went the right way to the entrance while only a select few were able to go in the special way. Let me tell you, there were druggies and there were hippies and there were weirdos in abundance there. One girl who was bombed way out of her skull shuffled over to me and examined my necklaces very closely. Very Idiotic Pricks gave me a hard time for not letting them in the special entrance. Two girls collapsed once they got off the busses. Oh yeah, the busses. Geez, let me tell you how lame this venue was set up. The actual stage and venue was decent enough. Not the greatest, but it was good enough for a large crowd. However, the parking lot was a fifteen minute bus ride away. How much sense does that make? So, this venue on the Fourth got a crowd of about three thousand people. Guess what it was like when all three thousand of those people wanted to leave at the same time. Yeah, nobody wants to make the hour and half walk back to their car, so they have to wait for busses. Unfortunately whoever is running this venue wasn’t smart enough to make the cul-de-sac big enough for the busses to turn around in completely, so nearly every bus (unless it was lucky) had to do a three point turn to get on the road out of there. That slowed things way down. So all these people, most are either drunk or stoned, are standing in a huge line in the dark waiting to pack into hot, tight busses. A couple of fights almost broke out. Another man collapsed in the line he was so drunk. On top of all of this, there are these huge tour busses trying to make this tight turn, but the people are too stupid to back up enough, so the busses are coming dangerously close to all these semi-coherent people. Let me tell you, it was a mess. As one of my coworkers eloquently put it, “It’s SNAFUBAR.” Guess who was in charge of this chaos?
That’s how I spent my Fourth.
“Vous etes tr?s jolie dans la lumiere du soleil.” You think that will win a girl’s heart? I doubt it, but it’s interesting to see if it does. What is it about the French language that makes it so “romantic”? Of course, it is a romantic language, but that’s not referring to its quality but to its category. Why couldn’t German be the romantic language? Or better yet, English? Then even I would have a language that gives an extra edge in winning the heart of a woman. Hahahahaha. I make myself laugh. Seriously, though. As a guy, I don’t find anything especially appealling in French. I actually think German sounds pretty darn cool; it’s nice and manly. Maybe it’s the way French sorta rolls off the tongue. Or maybe it’s the way it sounds when whispered, like when a guy whispers in a girl’s ear to tell her a sweet little nothing (like that phrase above). Or maybe it has nothing to do with the language at all, but entirely with the French man who is the epitome of the romancer.
Ack, my stupid contact got all whacked on me. Soon enough I’ll have a new pair of eyes.
With that, I think I’ve run out of things to say.
