"That's her art. Her art, is like, hair styles."*

When things were going badly a month or two ago, I purchased myself a piece of jewelry I love. It's a gold necklace with a perfect replica of a door key, but in miniature. I love the fact that it's something fancy & shiny but also, something so mundane and ordinary. I wear it every day. Somehow it has become this icon of me. I get asked about it a lot, and depending on my mood, the answer changes. Last night I was slammed with a bunch of tables full of annoying (versus fun) drunks and working the last few hours of what was a two day period spent putting in 8 hour office days and picking up 2 8 hour wait shifts at night with roughtly 7 hours of sleep in between. I was not to be easily amused. Please enjoy the following. I did.

Some drunk post-frat douche nozzle: So...(chuckles in a way that surely charms the 20 year olds he still manages to pull quim from if he gets to Shooterz! at the right time after they've had one too many Stoli Orange & gingers) What's that a key to?

Me, smiling pleasantly, narrowing eyes ever so slightlly and leaning close to him: My charcoal-black, minscule heart.

Some drunk post-frat douche nozzle: (stunned silence)

Me: Would you like to hear about the specials?


*co-worker, said straight-faced to another co-worker while I choked on pretzel stix, sniggering.