denouement

so brandon davis kept emailing my work email yesterday - like twice with random questions and then the last time saying something like, "i think i need some research done by _____" (my branch)

i decided to treat it like any other research request sent directly to me and responded with the standard response indicating that we would be more than happy to accommodate his research request and he could contact our general phone line or our general email address with the details of his query. i also included the standard closer that we request that clients refrain from contacting staff directly with research because the general email and reference line are constantly monitored and therefore prevents questions getting lost due to staff being away from their desks, on vacation, etc.

then he responds with an equally formal email thanking me.

five minutes later i get THIS sent to my personal email:

"since i have both addresses .. i'll write to the one that is your junk accoutn and the one that's your fun account - as i don't know which is which.
why don't you come visit me for 15 mins. we're in the same freak'n building. you have nothing to lose.
it would be nice to chat. for me anyway - based on the stimulating grilled cheese, fries and burger king convos."

UGH. SO DESPERATE. he's oozing oily gobs and desperation laced sebum. it's disgusting.

so i finally took the gloves off and replied with the following:

"listen dudebro [thanks, bwonger!],

i'm not trying to be rude, but your attempts to get your mack on are really being directed at the wrong person. whatever you think i am, whatever you think i'm susceptible to, you have it ALL wrong. i don't know how i can be more explicit, but you're really, really, not my type.

i really enjoy my work here and i like the people around me, and like i said, i'm not interested in complicating things, ESPECIALLY with someone who i can tell i don't have anything in common with.

i prefer to keep my work life and my social life separate and distinct.

i would prefer to stay on friendly terms with you (as i would all the people at work) but i fail to see what good could come out of me visiting you, especially since you've been so ham-fisted and transparent with your attempts to hit on me and have corrupted what could have been a perfectly pleasant, cordial relationship.

i'm guessing your technique must work with some ladies, but you're totally barking up the wrong tree, bud.

i would appreciate it if you don't attempt to contact me again.

cheers,
kl"

which must have gotten the point across, because i received this:

"Sure. Not a problem at all karl.
I appreciate the honesty."

and thus ends my one week torrid affair with a media personality. i would like to receive some daps for using the word "ham-fisted" in a shut-down email, por favor.

i should have figured that when a dude comes onto you with the force and subtlety of a mack truck, the only thing that works is a brick in a pillowcase - not the civility of a white-gloved approach.



this is last night's dinner. the pickled beets and tomato-cucumber-red onion salad were delicious, but nothing trumps my homemade falafel balls. i know i've crowed about them before, but i can't help it - they're as good as any i've had out. i think it's time for me to start getting a bit more adventurous with with the legumes though. at borough market in london i had an amazing falafel made with some kind of green pea. it was delicious. i put shredded lettuce and avocado in the falafels with the tahini lemon sauce (tahini with lemon, minced garlic, salt and pepper, thinned with water) and some hot sauce on top. so good!

my t-fal ez clean deep fryer decided his time had come and shuffled off into the countertop appliance room in the sky, last night. so i poured the oil i had saved into my enameled cast iron pot and then promptly wondered why i ever thought a deep fryer was so awesome in the first place. i mean, i guess the best thing about it is that it gives you a thing to store the oil in, but to be perfectly honest, it's a plastic tray that gets manky and is impossible to de-grease. so i think i'm going to pick up a few gallon jars and store my fryer oil in that...easy peasy and easier to clean since glass is completely impermeable and unlike plastic, doesn't share so many properties with oil.

i wouldn't mind getting another enameled cast iron dutch oven though. i've got a bunch of williams sonoma money burning a hole in my wallet so i think i'm going to invest in a new immersion blender and maybe a cast iron dutch oven?

today is my day off. i'm meeting a new family doctor, doing some small cleaning bits around the house and then going for a massage. an ikea mission tonight and then heading to bwong's to fam-up with goosetang and eat burgers at jetsun's juicy burger. i'm a little skeptical of this place. they call their fries homecut but from the photo, that ain't not homecut bizness. also, not a single review on yelp? hrm...

fin.

as dr. rei would say...

...what a dangler.

the saga continues...but my mum (who actually reads this thing!) is making me paro so let's say that i'm being hit on by kid cudi (i've changed the info in the previous post to reflect that.) TBH - if i was being hit on by the real kid cudi (or TI) let's say there there isn't a force in this universe that would keep me from getting all up in there. marriage vows be damned! to be more accurate, it's like i'm getting hit on by michael buble, but it's so gross that for my own peace of mind while i'm writing this, let's just say kid cudi.

so yesterday morning during my break i go to my personal email (i'm trying to get this shiz off the work servers) and send this polite, and i would argue fairly clear, missive:

"sounds like you've got a fully stocked bar in your office - it's a wonder you get any work done!
again, thanks for the interest but i don't think we have much in common - you're too much of a grown-up for me. i'll see you around"

MEANWHILE kid cudi has ALREADY emailed me at work attempting to "clarify" yesterday's "coffee metaphor" email and say that he didn't mean anything "dirty" - so i tell him to check his gmail, thinking that's the end of that.

BUT IT'S NOT!!! the dangler actually responded:

"what you mean is i'm probably too immature and playful and you have too many guys like that already !!!! or, you just insulted me by saying i'm too old for you. ;)
hmm...."

so i'm like, IS HE KIDDING OR WHAT? what the eff is wrong with this sad-sack?

and later on in the day i respond:

"with all due respect, you're too old for me - i don't fraternize with guys in suits - i like my guys in hoodies and stan smiths." (the stan smiths and hoodies is a shout-out to my boo, the dotytron, who really does look good in stan smiths - loves ya, you big lug!)

at which point, it couldn't be MORE done, right? that's assuming you're a normal, decent person and not the sleazoid of the next millenium. because brandon davis over here actually SENT AN EMAIL BACK:

"ouch. cold. you said it wasn't a THUMP.
ha ..
first .. i don't wear suits outside work ya know.
i have FOUR muthahfuck'n hoodies.
and i've never been accused of being too old.
too rough .. maybe. but never too old.
but i suppose younger women can't always handle that.
no worries. you are hot. and nice. thought i'd see what happened.
i need to go have a nap and lubricate my dentures."

WHAT A DANGLER. can i repeat that? WHAT A DANGLER. i just TOTALLY realized how apt my brandon davis analogy is. brandon davis, if you remember, is the giant greazeball who famously called lindsay lohan a "firecrotch" and even more recently accused mischa barton of being a "heffer" even though he not too long ago looked like this:

the best thing about googling brandon davis images is that you find THIS gem:

lol x 10000000000000000000.

ANYWAY, WHO WRITES THAT SHIZ?!??! reading the words "FOUR muthahfuck'n hoodies" and picturing THAT GUY writing them just makes you feel SO AWKWARD. it's like a very white, suburban mom trying to say stuff like "owned" or "hood rat" you just feel bad for them.

dr. rei has been hilarious - i forwarded her the emails and she's like, "ummm...the hoodies is a METAPHOR, obviously...an ACTUAL metaphor unlike your stupid coffee one"

lol!!! at this point, the emails have been forwarded to so many people, that i thought of the most hilarious way to shut this guy down for good. the best would be for DR. REI to respond to brandon davis here, IN THE FORWARDED CHAIN (so he knows it's been sent around) and interject herself into the conversation with:

ummmm...what do you MEAN by "rough"?
- dr. rei

LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOW FUNNY WOULD THAT BE?!???!!!!? we died laughing over dinner just thinking about it. the dotytron thinks it's going to be the most effective shut down.

so i was going to ignore it but the guy kept sending me emails - little one liners being "should i email your work or your personal email" and i'm like "dude, you're not giving up are you?" and he's like, "no."

i'm going to stop responding. i'm going to be like, "dude, you're wack and a dangler, i'm not going to respond to any more of your smarmy, creepy emails" and block the m-fer already or report it as spam.

last night we met up with dr. rei for dinner at kenzo ramen. we had been to the kenzo up in north york with bwong before and it was so good. the downtown location (assuming it's the same chain) is equally delicious.

we split an order of meaty, tender, gingery gyoza in delicate wrappers:

the dotytron ordered the "king of kings" ramen:

which has a bunch of stuff in it (pork, seaweed, etc.) and is spicy. it's one of the most popular ones.

i ordered the tonkotsu, which has a few thick slices of braised pork, half of a soft-boiled egg, and a mess of bean sprouts and scallions, in a milky, delicate, faintly sweet broth:

the portions of ramen are HUGE! on the side you get a little personal shaker of togarashi to spice things up a bit. so good!

our seats for the symphony were pretty awesome! ground floor, centre. guys, the toronto symphony orchestra is kind of the best and it deserves your love and support. they're doing a 3 night series featuring jean sibelius' 7 symphonies played in sequential order. we saw the 1st and 2nd symphony. i prefer the second. orchestras are so cool! i love oboes and bassoons and double bass and cello the best. the sound was impeccable inside of roy thompson hall. they ended up recording the show and they're going to be broadcasting it on cbc 2.

i really enjoyed it - even if i did aggravate the dotytron by asking what it IS exactly that makes the first violinist so the bomb and why having the conductor is such a big deal - the musicians aren't even LOOKING at him. as i said, a "forte is a forte" to which the dotytron responded with a big rollseyes and exasperated explanation which resulted in me saying, "you don't have to be so defensive you know"
and him responding, "and YOU don't have to keep acting like a symphony isn't a big deal" lol!

tonight for dinner we're having homemade falafels with a tahini lemon sauce, pickled beets, and tomato cucumber mint salad. refreshing!

fin.

this is the story...

of how i got (am getting) hit on by a media personality.

last friday, i'm standing in line at the resto, waiting to order my grilled cheese on whole wheat treat. a lady standing in front of me, turns to the suited up guy behind me, and says, "hey kid cudi, i've seen you on tv a lot lately, you're looking good" and so i turned around to look and it's some vaguely greazy MAN in a suit. now, i have this bad habit of always assuming that grown men in suits at the resto are high ranking u.s. politicians. this is because of my shameful secret: that i still don't know all the high ranking u.s. politicians by face, yet. so i err on the side of caution.

i go up and place my order and the guy behind me says, "make that 2" so i turn and start talking to him. he asks me what i do, what my name is, etc. he tells me that he's an actor and a hip hop mc, and i feel bad for not recognizing him (i'm also hyper-self conscious at my work because i don't follow the news as closely as i should - i'm too busy keeping myself abreast of youtube sensations and internet memes to be - ya know, important stuff like that...lol!) so i say, "sorry, i don't watch much tv" and then we're making idle chit chat about lunch (that i would get fries except i'm planning on going to burger king and doing a calorie splurge on the weekend) and what level of service my work offers to members of the press (they're clients of ours.) so i grab my sandwich and he goes, "what was your last name again?" and i tell him and take off with a polite, friendly, "nice meeting you." he definitely left a smarmy vapour in the air - the talking was a little TOO dialed in and way too much eye-to-eye contact - so he was either trying to sell me a house/car, get my vote, or was hitting on me.

go upstairs and talk to my buddy K and tell her that i'm pretty sure i was being hit on by some dude. and i tell her who and she's all like, "OMG, M & G (my other work girls) ALSO had an experience with that guy" (i guess kid cudi likes asians.) anyway, the story with G & M is that one year they ran into him at the grammys and he was talking with a piece of gum in his mouth that he accidentally spat out AND THEN PUT BACK IN HIS MOUTH (i'm pretty sure that's the story) and then went sniffing around M's office the following day looking for her but she was away from her desk. it ended at that.

if only i had been so lucky.

p.s. we're pretty sure he's married. to a GORGEOUS asian woman.

p.p.s. he looks like this:

ummmm...such a MAN, right? maybe i'm delusional, but i like to think that i look WAY too young and cool and NOT like a "woman" to be seen associating with a dude who looks like that. jeez. i like my guys in crooks and adidas.

i eat my sandwich. half an hour later, my desk phone rings, and it's HIM ASKING ME TO GO FOR COFFEE. so i'm all flustered because i don't want to be rude to a client and it's not like it's SO OBVIOUS that he's hitting on me, but c'maaan. so i'm like, "uhhh, i'm on back-up" (which means i'm on call to handle rush, walk-in requests) so he goes, "i guess that means you're chained to your desk" and i say yes and then he ASKS ME FOR MY EMAIL.

so i give him the work one because it's still not clear that it's not professional.

THEN FIVE MINUTES LATER I GET AN EMAIL. the subject line: "fishy" (literally, it said the word fishy, not like it was suspect, even though it was so it's kind of an inadvertent double entendre).

and the wording is SO SUGGESTIVE!!! it goes like this: "i had the seafood soup, it was okay, but now all i taste is salmon. i prefer the taste of my grilled cheese - ketchup of course. i'm sure you regret not getting the fries, i should have pressured you more so i could have plucked some from your pile. ha. nice talking to you" [emphasis mine]

WHAT THE FUZZ?!? so i'm all like, what the heck do i do?!? anyway, it gave everyone a good laugh on friday and livened up the rest of the afternoon.

i sent back a generic email saying that you have to be careful what you order down there, have a good weekend, nice meeting you, etc. very tasteful (i think) and not suggestive.

then yesterday he sends me an email asking about whether i got burger king on the weekend...still pretty casual. i respond that i didn't - keeping it light.

THEN HE EMAILED ME ASKING ME OUT FOR COFFEE AGAIN TODAY.

so i said, "sorry, i can't - i'm busy all afternoon, but i gotta ask, is the coffee personal or professional?"

now, you're going to wonder why i didn't do a lot of things - like tell him i'm hitched, shut him down, etc. and this is where being hit on at work complicates things. if this was the club, in the street, etc - i know what to do - you get the polite, tight-lipped smile, and the "oh no you di'n't" finger wave in your face or something equivalent. if you continue to press your case, then you get the b****y put down that is simultaneously HILARIOUS (for me) and puts you in your place. but this is work, so i feel like my hands are tied.

also, the feminist in me is not one to go running around telling people that i'm married. i don't feel like it's anyone's business. and the non-hetero-normative-monogamous in me doesn't feel like that's a truthful response - i don't want to support an institution i find problematic by leaning on its problematic elements as an excuse. i'm not interested in him because he's gross. not because i'm married. and not because i have a husband. to me, the two are unrelated (yes, i concede that that's a less conventional view of the bonds of marriage, but that's the only way i can be okay with it.)

THEN he sends the grossest email back (which i kind of didn't even understand) where he responds to some of my polite filler and then says this: "the coffee request was personal (he says .. waiting for the thump)"

i didn't get what the "waiting for the thump" part meant but K suggested it's cuz he thought he was going to get shot down.

so my response was this: "THUMP...ha. while it’s super flattering to know what i made such an impression on a random trip for a grilled cheese sarnie, i’m afraid i’ve got too many extra-curricular activities on the go to contemplate complicating my work life with anything beyond friendly banter. also, I don’t drink caffeine."

which, correct me if i'm wrong, i consider to be pretty clear, but still friendly and professional.

THE GUY WRITES ME BACK (I KID YOU NOT):

"i’m uncomplicated. just so you know. ;) and coffee .. was a metaphor.
i figure a brilliant library researcher would like that word. and its implications.
let me see .. i have tea, herbal tea, california cabernet sauv, single malt scotch, beer and vodka in my office. doesn’t sound complicated to me. don’t’ suppose you have an email that’s NOT work issued that we can banter on"

and then gave me his gmail address.

WHAT THE BLOOD. WHO DOES THAT?!!!? WHO DOES THIS WORK ON?!!!? also, WORST METAPHOR EVER. what a skeezeball. now i'm just mad. i was being polite and professional and i felt sad for his leisure suit larry ways before (it's sad seeing a grown a** man acting like a chump), but now i'm just pissed that he refuses to take a hint AND thinks this crap works on me. so you're basically going to push the issue until i outright tell you that i'm way out of your league? that you don't have a chance in hell? that you're GROSS?!? what a creepz0rz.

so now i'm going to email that gmail address and nip this in the bud. something along the lines of: "you're barking up the wrong tree, bud" or "i'm way out of your league, bro-dawg"

or something else if inspiration strikes. i gotta say though, being on the hinterland side of 30, it's nice to know i still got it. and when i say "i still got it" i'm being SUPER undiscriminating. i get a bit of an ego rush if a homeless man hits on me or if i get a wolf whistle biking by a methadone clinic. i ain't picky, ya hear?

tonight i made a splendid mostly vegetarian dinner. i made a red lentil and leek soup with crispy bacon, sage, and a touch of cream and some heat from red chili flakes. the dotytron insisted on pureeing it with the hand blender until it became "velveteen."

i also made quesadillas with sautéed beet greens and roasted red pepper and cheddar cheese.

so good!

now we're off on a nightly walk and then yoga, reading, and bed.

fin.