The return of the man
Today is G's first day at the new jobby-job. No more school, no more tests; a full-time, real-live job --where you have a desk, and stuff. I woke up this morning in time to witness the return of the short-haired guy in a suit that made his first appearance during last summer's internship. Yep, The Suit. It doesn't hold the fascination and horror it did last year. I think for a suit to work--not work as in, "Work those Culottes, girl!" Work like, make one look professional and competent and slightly imposing--you can't know the person. If it's someone you know, it's just them...in a suit. If you've seen them splashing around in the bathtub singing
Rubber Ducky at full voice, and making big, luscious soap breasts, and trying to fart for the fun of the jacuzzi effect; a simple garment like a suit doesn't have a chance in hell of creating an aura of respectability or power. (For clarification: I'm not saying G does any of those things in the bathtub. They were just examples I, um, made up.)
Sadly we spent his last night of freedom watching a horrible little horror film called Godsend. I don't know why I keep having to remind myself that there is no end to how bad something can be. Particularly when you've picked whatever based solely on the logic of "How bad can it be?" As if the previous How bad could it be's like Sweet Home Alabama and Bringing Down the House weren't enough to teach us a lesson.
Posted by Antigeist at September 8, 2004 09:50 AM
