It's Not ALL Bad

This is the architect's last week, so today we went out for a goodbye lunch. I know there's a heatwave going on in most of the country this week, and my heart goes out to all of you sweaty, crabby people, but it's cold and foggy in San Francisco. People are wearing coats and scarves here. Except for the tourists who think all of California is Los Angeles so they are wearing shorts, with a sweatshirt that says San Francisco that they bought in over-priced Fisherman's Wharf. Those poor tourists - someone should tell them they could buy the same shit in the Mission for half the price.

Anyway, it's cold. That's the point (so far). So when we went to our lunch the restaurant had turned on the outside heaters. I wound up having to sit right under one, although I'd have preferred to sit as far away from it as possible because I'm a sensitive snowflake who overheats easily.

While we were all getting settled and figuring out what we wanted to order, I apparently waved my hand in front of my face without realizing it. Turkey, who was sitting across from me, asked if I was hot. I didn't want to be a complainer, so I admitted I was, but added that I was fine. He told me the entire left side of my face was bright red. Within 30 seconds he'd flagged someone down and asked if they could turn the heat lamp off.

For all of the Turkey's drinking in the bathroom each morning, hiding jellybeans in the bathroom, losing checks from clients, lying and being passive-aggressive, he did something good today. I was really grateful the heater was turned off. Climbing over his personal assistant once I needed to puke probably would have resulted in a mess on top of her head.

When I overheat it's not just that I get a little uncomfortable. I truly get physically ill. Unfortunately Turkey is such an ego-maniac that I couldn't thank him as profusely as I'd have thanked anyone else, otherwise it'd have gone to his head and he'd bring it up to me any time he wanted me to do something corrupt in the future.