Friday's child

I'm hoping great things will happen this weekend, because my coworker told me on October 10 that you can wish for whatever you want and it will come true, because it's 10/10. I mean, I know that's sort of a verbal "SCROLL DOOOOWN WISH WISH WISH!!!" chain mail kind of thing, but dammit, I need some good luck. So here's what I wished for:

1. That a certain someone shows up with an awesomely large armful of flowers and apologizes for not showering me with devotion sooner, and that he has finally, painfully, extricated his head from his ass.

2. The club downstairs closes, and a record/candy/guitar/book/cheese curd store opens there instead, and all the employees are hot, intelligent, socially-unawkward single men who looooove redheads.

3. Oprah calls and offers to pay off all my debts. I appear on Oprah. She hires that guy to redo my apartment.

4. Jake Gyllenhaal calls and offers to smooch me. He appears on my bed.

5. The book I haven't written yet is an immediate bestseller, all those people who doubted me back when I was winning spelling bees in grade school read it and realize they are the inspiration for the evil, backstabbing, exclusive, dumb-as-rocks antagonists who are stricken with multiple disfiguring STDs early on in the story, feel bad, get really jealous, then go back to living their lame lives and working at the Bagel Shoppe.

6. $100,000 promotion. I mean, I'm trying to be realistic here.

7. George Bush calls and apologizes for fucking up the country/world, tenders his immediate resignation, followed by Cheney, and Barack Obama is unanimously voted President.

8. I throw a big party. Paris Hilton can't get in, but Soleil Moonfrye shows up and admits she wanted to be me when she was a little girl. Nicole Richie consents to eating a 20-lb hamburger and subsequently puts on 20 lbs.

9. I buy houses for my entire family and all my besties, and everyone gets a beer/soda/scotch fountain installed and free healthcare.

I think that's it, for now. I'll let you know on Monday how the weekend goes.

My new friend!

Hey! Good morning! Guess what, I have a new friend! His name is Jean Claude, he works at the club downstairs, and instead of leaving work last night/this morning, he decided to stay awhile. I found him this morning on my way to work. Asleep on our stairs. Inside the building, not outside. And not asleep, no way! My buddy Jean was completely passed out and unresponsive to all my efforts to wake him. Because I am a good friend, these efforts included, but were not limited to: shaking, stomping on the stairs, smacking his face, grabbing his shoulders, pinching his nose and ears (gently, of course). Don't worry, I checked for his pulse, and he had one.

"Oh, buddy," I thought, (I didn't know his name yet, but already I felt so close to him) "Who are you, and why are you in such a state?" I got my roommate to come out of the apartment, and I called 311. Then they switched me to 911 and then to the EMS. Of course, my new friend roused himself as soon as I hung up with the EMS, and tried to go towards the door that leads into the club. It was locked, unlike our front door, which the club people always leave open, in case any visitors want to stop by unannounced. Poor Jean! He was glassy-eyed and unresponsive to our heartfelt inquiries as to why the fuck he was asleep in our building.

The cops/firetruck showed up, to make sure he was okay. He told them he works at the club and was working last night. Well, I think that's what he said, he didn't seem to speak much English. Another employee said, that yes, he worked last night, and had too much to drink! Oh the stresses of work, they can really get you down. The best thing to do is get completely wasted and pass out on my stairs. The cops said since he wasn't on the stairs when they showed up, they couldn't give him a ticket. He didn't have an ID, or know his address though, so that might prove a tough situation for him in the future.

Anyway, I finally left for work. It's fun to have a new friend sleepover on my stairs, not even 15 feet from my door, even though I don't know him and instead of being a small drunk wobbly man, could've been a huge violent burglar or some other type of scary man intent on hurting the girls that live on the first floor in an unlocked building. Whew! That was a close call. Thank God for Jean Claude!