Personal - sigh

I'm talking out of my ass here, but hey – this is about me and I'm the editor of this publishing and after all the blog is a Narcissistic shrine, the expression of my ego. The past weekend I was guarding a military base. The weather was nice, the food was decent, there was an abundance of girls (sadly not very interested in conversation, at least not with me) and I had a rather good paperback for the time between shifts. The shifts themselves reminded me of the expression “watching paint dry”, but they weren't too long. I don't write much about my job, and that's not about to change, but here's a bit to bridge the knowledge gap: my immediate supervisor, I'll call him R, is a bit hyper active (wrong term, I forgot the right one, but it's close – when he sits for too long he has to jump up and move around) and he has taken to expend his energies in Salsa dancing. He's a bit goofy, even childish at times, doing silly thinks and pulling stupid pranks, but he gets away with it through sheer charisma – often he gets the people around to participate in the silliness. He's smart, dark, short but fit and he has in recent years cultivated his culinary and back rubbing skills. I remember a time, a few months back, a bunch of us in the office were discussing the merits of healthy recreational activities (as opposed to sitting in front of one's computer all day and night) and he has mentioned being a Salsa instructor. He was chatting up our then new secretary (a tall, pretty, decently bright girl who is genuinely nice. She later got bored of her job and went to officer's training), showing her a few moves. Our not so bright new IT person was questioning the manliness of dancing as opposed to more macho pastimes like sports and hiking. While he was talking, R was rotating the secretary (who was obviously enjoying herself), a mischievous smile upon his face. In recent months, R and a girl from the office, M, have been spending a lot of time together. What we know for a fact is they frequently go dancing at some party and she spends the night at his place because it's too late for her to go home. Both vehemently deny that anything else besides the dancing is going on, but as E noted, they would deny everything either way. During the weekend, they and another girl they've met dancing have visited me briefly at my post. I had a notebook lying around with some FFDB related sketching. I dismissed it as some boring computer stuff and we laughed about me being too geeky to not think about computers for an entire weekend. The girl they've brought told me how, inebriated, she nicked R's cellphone and phoned E, at 4AM, leaving a lewd message on his answering machine. From this I gathered they didn't sleep much the previous night. Logistics lead me to presume she has spent the night early morning at R's. I'm pretty sure he has only one bed at his place. When they were pulling out of the driveway R knocked down one of the plastic “barricades” and made a joke about righting it by knocking it down from the opposite end. I made a completely lame and geeky pun. As they were pulling out and gaining speed I faintly heard a female voice say “what a nerd”. Mood: Resignation Music: Green Day – Good Guys Finish Last