Flattery Isn't Getting Me The Hell Out Of Here

So I had an eye doctor appointment tonight.
I had a conference call scheduled at the end of the day that was supposed to keep me at work a half an hour later than usual, but most of the people who were supposed to be on it were no-shows, so I ended up only leaving about 10 minutes later than usual.
This put me at more than two hours between leaving work and having my appointment, but I didn't want to have to go home, sit around for a while, and then go out again.
So I took a roundabout path to Leesburg, then headed to Super-Target where, to kill time, I got a personal pan pizza from the Pizza Hut Express.
The reason I'd gone to Target was to pick up The Dark Knight on Blu-ray.
In fact, I ended up buying the special 2 disc limited edition with the "Batpod" replica display case, as can be seen here:


*Ahem* Neeeeerrrrrrddddddd!

After doing as much shopping as I could, I still had over an hour before my appointment, so, reluctantly, I went home.
Once I got to the eye doctor's I ended up having to wait for nearly an hour, which annoyed me because the only reason I was there was for him to see how my eyelid gunk looked now that I've been scrubbing my eyelids.
While I was there I got multiple compliments on my hair - on both its style and its color - and I was thinking, "That's nice, but complimenting my hair isn't getting me out of here any faster, or making me want to be here. Especially since most of the compliments are coming from a guy."
Eventually I got out of there after learning that I'm doing very well with the whole eyelid gunk scrubbing. So, "Yay me," I guess.
I overheard one of the patients talking about how he bought his wife a Mercedes for Christmas, which the dealership will deliver on Christmas Eve, bow and all, as a surprise.
I didn't think shit like that actually happened anywhere outside of commercials.
Anyway, that's pretty much all there is to report.