_jordan_

I get home from work last night and start getting my gear because I have a model (Jessica) to shoot in the studio. While I am getting my gear I wonder, "Do I have any vodka at the studio?" I ponder this question as I trek out to the car and deposit my blue strobe bag and red camera backpack into the trunk. Upon returning to the house I vocalize my concern to Crystal and she confirms that I finished off the vodka last time I was there. I am unphased. I recall Sikjoy left a bottle of vodka that is about half full on the bottom shelf in the back of the fridge. So I open the fridge and pull out a carton of milk and set it on the ground. At this point I hear, "Don't touch my milk."
Must be a demon or some other sort of trickery... why would anyone say that? So, I ignore it and retrieve the second carton from the fridge, the only other obstacle between me and sweet delcious vodka, and set the second carton at my feet, next to the first.
The sound comes again, but much more angry, "I TOLD you not to touch my milk."
I look up. Standing over the refridgerator door looking down at me angrily is Crystal. Surprise washes over me! I look at her and say, "Are you fucking kidding me? In my refridgerator I am not allowed to move the milk to get to the back? You've gotta be kidding me." And then we fight. We fight over me moving MILK out of the refridgerator to get something and then putting it back. We fight because she ORGANIZED the refridgerator and now it is off limits because I am a colossal idiot and will mess it all up. I already lost this battle with the cupboards. I don't give a shit about anything in the cupboards so I let her have it, but they are officially off limits. If there is anything I want up there, I must answer why and then she must retrieve it. It's bullshit and it isn't happening to my refridgerator. (I happen to love my refridgerator it contains all sorts of things that make me happy!) So... (pissed off) ... I half stomp out to my car and in a supreme act of callousness I head to the studio alone and don't even invite her.

For the record, I am not sorry I moved the Milk and will do it again in a heartbeat.

The milk story was last night, and I am still mad. Therefore I do not go home for lunch instead opting to eat at EZ Jay's. Delicous Ez Jay's. The office is picking up the tab, just to sweeten the deal. I can taste their delicious biter delux as I am driving down into PB to pick it up. I find a parking spot that's so close to Ez Jay's that I worry maybe it should be painted blue, but I still park there, I'll only be a minute, I called ahead. One person is in line ahead of me. I am wearing my glasses, but even if I wasn't I could tell she was a knockout. Five foot six and one hundred ten pounds, a brunette with light olive skin, big beautiful eyes, and a pierced lip accenting a smile that makes everyone else on the planet look like a dirty hobo. I guess if you have to wait in line, finding the prettiest girl on the planet to wait behind isn't such a bad deal. So I patiently wait there watching sandwich guys chop meats and toast breads waiting while (I can only assume) a monkey chisels out the her visa numbers onto a stone. It takes forever and finally she signs for her purchase and takes her empty styrofoam cup up to the soda machine while I move to the register. A man rings up my purchase and I hand the card to the monkey who retrieves a fresh stone and begins transmission. I stand there, tapping my foot, casting occasional glances over towards the captivating brunette making some sort of suicide soda mixture. I look back to the monkey, then over at the sandwich guys, then over to my dream girl, who is already looking at me. She smiles. I blush. Bright red, I can feel it, hot all over my face. I smile back, then look back over to the monkey who is about to ask me to autograph his work. I sign. My sandwiches are handed to me and I turn to leave. Standing right beside the door, sipping soda from her straw, is the girl that will forever be known as the super hot chick I met at Ez Jay's. (Even though I didn't actually meet her and super hot chick is the understatement of the century.) Anyhow, I have got to walk past her and since I cought her giving me the once over and recieved a smile that could melt the polar ice caps I am already feeling like a winner. But what to do? Walk out with a smile? Ignore her? Ask her if she wants to move to London with me? What? My mind races, but my lips do all the work for me. When all else fails, go with honest. I stop at the door. Look over to her (she's already looking at me!) and I say, "You. *slight pause* Are rediculously beautiful." A bright beautiful smiles washes over her face and she gives a slight blush and says thank you. I beam from ear to ear walking back to my car and calmly drive away. I hope I made her day, as much as she's made mine.

Thank you, super hot chick I met at Ez Jay's. If I ever see you again, I hope I get to say more than just a compliment.