Sunday, April 5, 2009

Emilio, My Crazy-Ass Hemi-Venezuelan Lovah ;) ;)


Just kiddin', ladies, he's just a really good friend.

Thanks to you, Mio, for reassuring Ubes and Shel. (He attempted to post exactly one anonymous comment on Uber's blog and signed it on Saturday afternoon.)

In your honor, I've constructed a post, which I'm writing from McK's dad's house while he's out of town. Hey, I figure that since I'm watering his plants ( and, ya know, gave birth to his offspring) the least he can do is let me use the 'puter for a few minutes.

So I was trying to think of some really good dirt on you...erm...I mean funny anecdotes to tell, DESPITE you telling me today that my personality is exactly like Rachel on Friends (I...guess that's a compliment?).

Even though you could discuss any subject from cartoons to Kafke, guess what sprung to mind first about you?

You, Dean, and Chander demonstrating the proper way to do an "ass check."

I have no idea of how this subject came up, but I think it had something to do with Brandy and I trying to figure out how to check for a wedding ring without being too obvious, and I'm even worse at checking out asses and...elsewhere. I always get caught, then I have to act like I'm looking at the floor for some imaginary object I've dropped.

So then the three of you proceeded to display your own signature "ass check."

Dean (the long-lost Jonas brother) has a quick shy "down-and-to-the-left" flash approach, Chander does a "linger-for-a-moment-with-a-slight-smile-because-I-almost want-to-get-caught" slide-down, and you do an all out "Yeah-I'm-totally-checking-out-your-ass-and-I-like-what-I-see," then look directly into your eyes.

Emilio doesn't look AT you, though, ladies, he looks THROUGH you...he's totally got the dark brown, soulful, mysterious Zorro eye-thing goin' on.

My fondest memory, however, is our favorite past-time; making our coworkers scratch their heads about what the hell we think is so funny. I swear to God, we could writhe and convulse on the floor in a fit of laugher and they would just step over us and go, "Oh them? That's just Chrystal and Emilio bein' all weird again."

For instance, the time that Donny Osmond, the argyle-vest-wearing weasel got on you for sales that day at Christmas (when we're already on people overload that day). I asked you what was wrong and you said you were fine, but this is how you feel about people right now....

You proceeded to play "Let the Bodies Hit the Floor" by Drowing Pool at top volume on the I-phone, drowning out poor cheery-sounding Perry Como and the canned Christmas music. Donny O. yells a quizzical..."Emilio?".... and we turned around to be met by all seven coworkers and six customers, staring at us blankly and blinking twice...and I'm pretty sure I heard crickets.

You just giggled a "hehehe" and walked away. I'm pretty sure I peed myself.

Despite how "different" you sometimes feel, you were the favorite; nobody could wait until you arrived. People actually checked the schedule to find out and asked each other when you came in. And never forget what I told you that day you let it get you down, you thought you had an attention problem you needed to get checked because of the little slump.

I said, "Yes, you DO have a problem. Your IQ is higher than all of the people in this room put together, this job doesn't challenge you enough, you're more about quality customer service/retaining customers rather than a quick sell, and yet you think YOU have something wrong with YOU. "

"Nope, find something more challenging to do in your spare time to keep yourself from getting bored HERE and sometimes these people aren't going to get you...but they all love you. There, that'll be 120 bucks."

So true, puddin'...and don't forget it on bad days...I love ya.:)


P.S. - Ask Nicole about the jeans, she'll tell you. There's something between "Hello, look at my penis" skinny jeans and your usual "See if you can tell if I even have a penis" relaxed fit, phat baggies. By the passed the ass check... it defies gravity.;)

P.S.S....If anyone has any questions about what REALLY happened and/or to verify my version of events, please call me or Dr. Mary Kelley at 859-431-3052. There's no bipolar disorder, no personality disorder - only PTSD from real-life events and then what happened here. Sorry you felt the need to project your sociopathic behavior onto me because I found out what a few of you were really up to and blew the whistle.;)

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