Why I Hate Popcorn, Wherein I Am Disgusting, Free Dessert, All Things Clean, And, Another Lesson In Spanish

Even after all that I experienced last week, I decided to go ahead and be brave. I agreed to yet another ‘favor’ that involved cleaning for Nightingale. However, this time around, I was wise enough to implement a few of my own terms and conditions.

Aside from getting up in the morning at a more reasonable hour, my other ‘condition’ was that I could not be held responsible for driving anyone.

Thankfully, Nightingale had previously made arrangements with Rommie and Claudia with respects to transportation. And, I would not have to confront that perpetual case of gephyrophobia.

[Thank you Agg79 for proving me with the proper Medical Terminology.]

Anyway. Like I was saying, I left my house at 8am, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, excited over the prospect that four girls would be cleaning together, complete with a Spanish to English translator. Thankfully, Nightingale is fluently bi-lingual and she would be joining us for the duration of the day.

The first stop on the cleaning list was none other than the Country Club located within my own complex. Also known as KHCC. Ah yes, KHCC is my home away from home and my secondary sanctuary. It was the first time in the history of the world that I arrived in the building before Amy The Bartender [Who Plays Tennis But Is Not Ranked].

I walked through the doors with a smile on my face and a skip in my step. I was actually looking forward to cleaning the very place I spend so much time creating sentences.

As I greeted Nightingale, Claudia, and good ole’ Rommie, I was nominated ‘Deputy Of Vacuuming’ all 6,000 square feet that is the golf club embroidered carpeting.

Armed with an orange colored industrial sized vacuum, I took charge of the clubhouse.

And that’s when I ran into my first issue.

Popcorn.

And.  Lots of it.

Everywhere.

In. Every Corner.

In. Every. Crevice.

And, in every square inch of space, underneath the bar.

Let me tell you a few secrets about popcorn.

First of all, popcorn is painful. Any kernels on the floor will refuse to get sucked up by the vacuum cleaner. Instead, these tiny yellow balls will ricochet from the machine, and much like the pellets from a BB-Gun, shoot whatever bare skin is exposed until you are covered in welts.

Secondly, popcorn is highly aerodynamic. That stuff is so light and fluffy it can sail through the atmosphere, at incredible speeds. Especially, when someone tries to remove it. Whatever popcorn was not picked up by the vacuum cleaner on the first pass? Will fly wildly out of control, until landing directly right back on the carpet that was already vacuumed.

Lastly, popcorn is sneaky. Just when you think it’s all gone, you will discover minuscule pieces were hiding in the treads of your sneakers. And apparently, that’s where they multiply. As they escape from the soles of your shoes, they will deposit white speckles everywhere you vacuumed beforehand.

Seriously. Popcorn is the herpes of all snack foods. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.

How do I know all of this?

Because that is exactly what happened to me as I tried to confine, contain, and eliminate the popcorn from the floors of KHCC. I could have lost an eye people. I could have lost an eye. I will never be able to look at popcorn the same. I hate popcorn.

While I am glad the members of KHCC enjoy free baskets of buttery salty goodness, I really wouldn’t mind if the popcorn machine suddenly, and mysteriously, broke down and was rendered useless. I would sincerely appreciate it if they would stop serving that shit. Immediately.

Halfway through cleaning the banquet hall, I could feel the all too familiar cramps in my side. I knew another ‘issue’ was brewing in my stomach. It was only a matter of time before I would have a full-fledged ‘situation’ to contend with.

Yeah. Um.

Ya’ll remember when this happened?

Well…THAT happened.

Again.

[*Minus the ocean-water-rotting-kelp-flavored-all-natural-supplement.]

I was trapped within the confines of the freshly cleaned bathroom facilities, for at least twenty minutes. One full roll of toilet paper later, I was thankful my incident occurred so close to home.

After I made it out of the bathroom alive, and sweating so badly I looked like I had just come off a ride at the Water Park, I was immediately STARVING. I felt hollow inside. I suppose losing ten pounds in a matter of minutes leaves your intestinal track and stomach completely vacant. Yet, I couldn’t eat, knowing that I had a full day’s work ahead of me.

In the interest of keeping this blog post shorter, I will now only provide the highlights of the rest of my day.

1. For those of you who were concerned, Rommie DID in fact get to eat this time.

2. Speaking of Rommie, I discovered she had been trying to communicate with me for quite some time. Aside from the language barrier, there was just one more problem causing a world of difficulty when she tried talking to me. Rommie thought I was a bitch. Not because we couldn’t listen to music, and not because I refused to stop for food, but because she thought I was ignoring her.

And here’s why.

Rommie had been calling out ‘my name’ and I wouldn’t respond to her. Rommie didn’t understand why I wouldn’t even look at her when she said ‘my name’.

It wasn’t until Nightingale sounded out ‘Meleah’ phonetically ‘Ma-Lee-Yah’ that Rommie realized I had NOT been ignoring her. I just didn’t reply because I had no idea she was even talking to me.

Apparently, for two weeks, Rommie thought my name was Sophia.

3. Later that day, I became a member of the ‘We’re The Fagg-Ah-Wee Tribe’. Otherwise known as the ‘Where The Fuck Are We Tribe.’ After we got lost. Twice.

4. While single handedly mopping 2,500 square feet of hardwood floors and panting like a rabid dog, the sales lady over heard my gasps for air. With concern in her voice she asked, “Are you okay?” I quickly said, “Yep.” Then she asked, “Are you a smoker?” To which I replied, “Yes. Ever since I was 12 years old. Nothing to worry about over here, I always breathe like this.” [insert asthmatic sounds]

5. Over the course of yet another excruciating twelve-hour day, I learned a few Spanish phrases.

Mucho Trabaho = A lot of work. [which is exactly what I did all day long.]

And

Uno Mas = One More. [As in we have one more unit to clean even though we all wanted to die.]

And can I tell you? I am not a fan of hearing ‘Uno Mas.’ Especially when I thought we were done for the day.

Even if ‘Uno Mas’ was ‘De Pequeño Tamaño’= small in size.

——————————————————————————-

Considering I barely had the energy or stamina left in me to cook a meal, and since I was absolutely famished, when my day finally came to an end? I headed directly back to KHCC.

Much To My Dismay, upon arriving, what did I see?

Popcorn.

All. Over. The. Floors.

Again.

Mother. Fucker.

It was as if I had never even cleaned the place. I will now and forever cringe at the sight of anyone eating another free basket of popcorn.

As I settled in my reserved spot, I was greeted by my favorite person ‘Amy The Bartender’ [Who Plays Tennis But Is Not Ranked] who was very busy teaching ‘The New Girl’ how to tend bar for the first time in her life.

We will be calling ‘The New Girl’, ‘Amanda The Bartender In Training’ [Who Paid Thirty-Five Dollars For A Bagel, Because She Did Not Understand ‘Over Draft Charges’ On Her Father’s Debit Card].

Before ordering everything on ‘The Left Side Of The Menu’, I shared laughs and iced teas with a “Totally Super Hot Guy, That Could Be A Member Of Law Enforcement [Via Haircut] Who Dresses Really Well, And Was Hit In The Head By A Rain Drop – That May Or May Not Have Caused A Concussion, And Thinks Meleah Is Really Funny, But Sadly, Already Has A Girlfriend And Is In A Committed Relationship [Otherwise Known As Tom].”

Now, when I told you I was STARVING, I was not kidding. And although I did not really order everything on The Left Side Of The Menu, I did eat more food than anyone thought humanly possible.

Here let me show you….

Burger Number One:

And

Burger Number Two:

And after I managed to consume all of that?

I was still hungry!

I craved something sweet. I just had to order myself some dessert.

The chef at KHCC could not believe his ears when he heard that I was going to eat even more food. And, having never witnessed anything like that in his entire career as a chef, he decided that if I could eat both if those burgers and have dessert, he would personally pay for my dessert out of his own pocket.

And that my friends, concludes this weeks blog post.

But, stay tuned later this week, because I may surprise you all with an extra post that will include ‘A Meaningless Blind Date With Someone Who May Or May Not Be In The Witness Protection Program, Tiny Bladder Syndrome Verses Leaky Ass Syndrome And How Spending Too Much Time With The Same Person May Lead To Transference Of Syndromes. And, How To Spend The Fourth Of July In The Emergency Room -Twice.’