On Friday, I had my Spencer's interview. I rushed my coworker at the coffee shop so I could get to it on time, and I ended up being about 20 minutes early. I even walked around the mall beforehand. I wanted to survey the damage to Bath and Body Works. As previously mentioned, their roof was indeed off. They were missing a fat patch of ceiling tiles, and they had all their merchandise pushed to the front of the store while employees inside milled around staring at the floor. I couldn't get close enough to really see what was wrong, but the floor looked like it had some pretty nasty water damage. They had their bars down and a note saying they were closed, but not when they'd be open again. Neither of the stores next to them had any such obvious damage.

After I stared at B&BW, I went into American Eagle to see if they had any new jeans. I'm always canvassing the place for a pair just like the ones I've worn practically nonstop since I got them. I'm always disappointed, though, because now anything in that style is stretch or pre-fucked-up--two things I most certainly will not buy.

Anyway, while in American Eagle, I filled out another job application, found out they're having group interviews early this week, and was told I wouldn't need to include references. I thought that was kind of odd.

B called me as I was walking out of AE to tell me we were going to see 30 Days of Night, then I went to Spencer's.

The manager is this big, really easygoing black lady who's probably in her late 30's/early 40's. She has no problem with saying vibrator and told me that the young people are really into wallet chains and being gay. "Even if they're straight," she said, "they love that gay stuff. Rainbow stuff is hot right now." I told her I couldn't work until next Saturday, which is a lie. I'm hoping to get a job elsewhere before then. I don't know, however, if I'm hired yet. She said she had to interview a couple more people.

After that, I came home, changed my clothes, and B and I went to Hooters to meet his friends. B miscommunicated to our waitress that it was his friend's birthday, so she made him get up and do a birthday dance in the middle of the restaurant. B was just buying the poor guy a belated birthday dinner. We got on the subject of "don't tase me bro" and almost had to endure a diatribe from our waitress about how cruel it was, but she did something else instead. I imagine it would've sounded the same as if she had been talking about someone kicking puppies. She was cute and charismatic--both prerequisites for being a Hooters waitress--and she made us laugh, so she gets brownie points, even if she does have great cleavage and a tight, athletic little body. That bitch.

We got to the theater waaaay early, so we bought candy and wandered around looking at movie posters before our screen started seating. I'd recently read the first bit of 30 Days of Night, and I thought it did the book justice and then some. There were story changes, but none of them had any sort of negative impact on the movie.

When we got out, we collectively went to the can. When I came out of the bathroom, B was frantically beating on a water fountain that was shooting a stream of water about two feet higher than it should and was pooling on the floor, seeping into the carpet.

"What did you do?" I asked him, and he said the guy who had apparently caused the problem ran for help, leaving B to deal with it temporarily. I mused that he'd probably just run away, then asked him why the hell he didn't just put his hand over the stream, so the water would run into the drain. I then did just that.

Eventually the guy brought theater staff to the rescue and we stood around watching their comical efforts at quelling the wrath of the water fountain for a few minutes. Well executed physical comedy. Wish I'd taped it.

On Saturday, my coworker brought his monster-monitor to work, which I bought for a meager $20. It's 19 inches, and weighs about 30 pounds, but the screen works perfectly. My old one was so blurry in the middle, I could barely read text. Now it's sitting on my floor. I was thinking of tossing it from the balcony, but I probably won't.

B and I went grocery shopping that night and made tacos for dinner. The climber's clip on my keychain broke, so today I replaced that, did laundry, and dicked around.

Tomorrow I need to go pay my speeding ticket. I don't wanna. I don't wanna, idon'twannaidon'twanna.