I suppose I shouldn’t admit this, ever, but there have been
many occasions where I have eaten, watched a movie or just gone out alone. Usually it’s just a feeling of wanting
to get out of my apartment after having a couple of days off and completely
wasting every second of those two or three days. I’m one of those extremely rare people who has almost no
problem with being the sad strange individual who has probably been the
inspiration for some of those forever alone comics. Tonight, however, I admit to feeling a little weird sitting
in Buffalo Wild Wings and having dinner by myself. This is partly due to the fact that I’m visiting my parents
and they both have something else to do.
In all fairness to them, however, my dad is farming and while I’m not
exactly sure what my mom is doing, I have been here for almost two weeks, so
I’m not exactly feeling neglected.
The real reason, as it turns out, stems from my reasoning behind
choosing BWW as my dinner destination.
I have been trying to download an episode of “Bones” from iTunes for the
last couple of days and I needed a solid Wi-Fi connection to get this
done. I feel this, more than
anything, is what is causing me to think of myself in slightly sadder
terms. At least every other time I
could have sited others being busy as to why I might enjoy some activity or
another alone, but I think my addiction to TV shows might be getting a bit out
of hand. Really, I could have
waited until I got back to my apartment tomorrow to finish downloading my
episode, but I figured that would defeat the purpose of having bought the
episode in the first place and also put me another week behind. The real problem comes when I have to
decide: Now that I have finished my meal, how long can I sit here typing as
though I have something important I must finish while I’m really trying to hold
out until the whole episode is downloaded. I’ve left my waitress a very nice tip to compensate for the
fact that I’m taking up her table for only God knows what she thinks I’m doing
here. So, at the very least I don’t
feel horrible for her sake. I
suppose I shouldn’t care what some complete strangers might think of me
tip-tap-typing away, but given my propensity for judging complete strangers, I
suppose I know how cruel others can be when they know the object of their derision
will never know how virulent they’ve been. Mostly, I think I’m using the writing of this blog as an
excuse to do that waiting. Ok, I
fully admit I don’t really care what those strangers are thinking of me. Frankly, they’re never going to say it
to my face, and if they did, I’d probably write it off as someone having too
much to drink or that they are, in fact, a complete douche whose opinion
matters about as much as rabbit poop.
Really, I guess what I should be wondering is how long I can type out inane
nothings in this blog before I decide that another hour of watching the little
blue bar on my download progress at the pace of a flash-frozen zombie really
isn’t worth it. Then again, now I’m
wondering just how slow a flash-frozen zombie can shuffle along, so I suppose
now I have to decide just how many people would keep reading if I begin to
debate with myself the merits of living in an incredibly cold or incredibly hot
environment if the zombie apocalypse really does occur.
No, no, I’ll restrain my innate ability to ramble and take
the next logical step. The only
way to solve the problem of having strangers judge me as I sit here alone is to
admit defeat and leave the restaurant.
However, I will not give up waiting for my episode to load. The real irony of the situation is that
I came to BWW for the Wi-Fi, and ended up using that of a nearby restaurant
instead. As it turns out, BWW has
three options for Wi-Fi use, and none of them would work on my MacBook. I will therefore post this (incredibly
stupid) blog, leave BWW and wait in my car until the episode is done
downloading. The nice thing about
this plan is that my car is closer to the neighboring restaurant, so my signal
strength may improve, which will hopefully result in a faster download.
With that, I bid all of those who stuck with me throughout
my inane tirade a fond adieu. For
those of you who skipped to this last paragraph, you may go fornicate with
yourself and be mauled by a rapid porcupine.
