It's been awhile since I last wrote a daylog. I've been working like mad with 3D Studio Max5- just started on my first original mesh, the NX-221 USS Athena (Trek- original design by yours truly). It's coming along slowly but surely. Every day I add something new and different or replace some element of the ship that doesn't sit well with me for one reason or another. The guys over at SciFi Meshes.Com have been quietly supportive, which helps. I'm still learning about the software and this experience has been an incredible adventure in using what I've already learned and learning new stuff. My day is wasted if I don't learn something new.
My job as a movie theater projectionist is beginning to take a severe toll on my psyche. We now have set schedules and, of course, I have nothing but night shifts- six PM to closing every night except Saturdays and Mondays, which means I get out of work on weekdays at around midnight and about 2 AM on Fridays. I don't see the sun much anymore except at sunrise and sunset- the intervening hours are usually spent sleeping. The winter is getting to me, too, which conspires with my work hours to inspire even more depression. The Winter Blahs. Blah.
Every night after work I come to the cafe and it's the same story, mostly. Kids, some drunk and some not, all shouting and whining and being... kids. I'm turning into an old grump, I tell you. Then again, I never really was one for high-energy crowds... they tend to scare me, always making it clear to me that I can't watch every possible vector of potential trouble.
A girl who's been hanging around the cafe a lot lately, Sarah, has been dealing with a severe kidney infection which was initially very minor but got progressively worse because she refused to save her money for medicine and her parents equally refused to help her. She's been taken from the cafe to the hospital a few times because she's a boneheaded twit who decides to get drunk while trying to recover from this ailment. She's been going "dry" for the last two weeks, mostly against her will due to finances. She just came into some money and was talking tonight about possibly getting drunk tomorrow. Upon hearing this, I could not stay silent.
"Sarah?" She looked up at me expectantly. "Would you ever let a bull butt-fuck you? I mean, a big, rutting, horned bull."
She was a blank slate for a few seconds, trying to figure out where in the deep recesses of my warped mind such a question could lurk and break free. "There's only three guys I'd ever let-"
I stopped her. "I'm not talking about people. I'm talking about bulls. Anal sex with a bull. Yes or no?"
"No," she said with a look of disgust mixed with confusion clouding her features.
"And why not?" I asked, not giving her enough time to answer. "Because it'd kill you, right?" She nodded, uncertain where I was going with this. "So... if you won't take it up the ass from a bull because it'll kill you, then why on earth would you even consider going out and getting drunk if it'll relatively have the same effects?" She blinked hard at me, at a loss for words or a response. "I mean, let's recap here, Sarah. The last few times you got drunk, you ended up in the hospital- every time. You threw up blood, you passed out twice. You cried incessantly about the horrible ache in your kidneys. You couldn't eat for two days. You got no sleep from all the stress and anxiety. And while you may think your self-confidence was bolstered, you were actually pretty melodramatic and over-sensitive about most things that you would normally ignore when sober."
"Yes," she said uncertainly. "That's all very true. And, when you put it like that, it doesn't sound like such a good idea."
"...and yet you're still considering it, aren't you? You're still thinking about getting drunk tomorrow night, knowing that the end result will be right on par with taking it up the ass from a bull. If you want to die experiencing just a few moments of pleasure, well hell, Sarah, I can take you out to Whitehouse, just thirty miles out of town, and introduce you to a bull that's ready and raring to go. I mean, there's got to be a bull out there, somewhere, who's looking to keep warm for this cold winter night. What do you say?"
She was quiet for several seconds, looked down and said, "Maybe I won't get drunk tomorrow night after all."
The rest of the room was deathly silent during this entire, warped conversation. Everyone was holding their breath, awaiting my reply. "Damn right you won't," I said softly. "Now... should I say it or will you?"
She knew what I was talking about. "I'll say it," she answered. "I'm a fucking idiot."
"You're a young fucking idiot," I corrected her. "But you're an idiot that we all care for, so when we hear you talking about doing something blindly stupid like you have been, well, we as your friends, tend to get our panties in a twist. Now shut up about getting drunk and tell us something worth hearing."
Three people promptly stood up and applauded, which was quickly followed by everyone else who'd heard the exchange. Sarah's best friend, Andrew, told me that he coulnd't have put it better himself.
Just another day at the cafe.