Suffering Sappho!

Despite the fact that I more or less hate my car, the fact remains that, for a variety of reasons, I’m pretty much stuck with it, so overall I’m very glad to have it back.
After all, if I have to drive around in a crappy car that I don’t like it’s better to drive around in the crappy car that I know.
As you’ve no doubt guessed, my car was actually ready today, so I was able to go in and pick it up and drop off the loaner.
All things considered, I was actually glad to be back in my piece of crap, and it seems that I actually missed the damn thing.
Beyond just being glad to have it back, though, there was the novelty of once again being able to tell how much gas I have by looking at the gas gauge, and, for the first time ever, when I turn the A/C on, my car actually gets cooler.
(I’d never bothered getting the A/C fixed before as it had never really been an issue. After all, I don’t spend that much time in my car, and the previous two summers were nowhere near as hot and humid as this one has been.)
I noted also that the car did seem to ride a lot more smoothly with the new tires and the, presumably, superior new rims, none of which is bent.
All told, the costs of the two new tires, some of the labor, fixing the A/C, and the inspection and oil change I’d originally brought it in for came to $233.
Okay, I take that back. All told, the cost came to $223.
I just got a phone call from the cashier at the dealership explaining that she’d overcharged me by $10 and that she was going to refund the money to my account.
So that was kind of cool.
Except…
Well, while this didn’t cost anywhere near as much as it could have, it was still a little pricey.
And as for the $10 refund…
When I answered the phone, recognizing the number as being the Kia dealership, I was greeted by the gravelly-voiced cashier asking for Mrs. Maki.
I said, “Well, you can speak to Mr. Maki.”
She then said, “Mr. Maki, earlier today when your wife came in to pick up your car-“
I cut in, “You mean when I picked up my car? I don’t have a wife.” I considered thanking her very much for drawing attention to the fact that I am so desperately and pathetically alone, as if I really needed a reminder, but decided against it.
She apologized, said, “For some reason I was picturing a woman coming in and picking up your car,” then proceeded to explain why she had called.
So.
A woman.
Maybe I’m not a creep; with the short hair and virtually ever-present facial stubble, maybe women think I’m a lesbian.
Nah, that couldn’t be it; I don’t wear enough flannel.
(For the record, I distinctly recall the cashier referring to me as “sir” when I was there, so it was just her memory that was faulty; she hadn’t thought I was a woman when I was actually in front of her.)
On the topic of lesbians, though, the other night I was watching a show called “Pornucopia” on HBO, which is a documentary-style series about the porn industry, and is basically an outgrowth of its old “Real Sex” series, which basically gave HBO the leeway to stop just short of airing full-on hardcore porn under the guise of investigative reporting.
In any case, the particular episode I watched dealt with same-sex scenes in porn movies.
Because they know their audience, they focused primarily on girl-girl scenes in mainstream porn, so there was a lot of footage of silicone, peroxide, and collagen-enhanced actresses doing all manner of things to each other (as I said, they know their audience), with the occasional snippet of an interview with those same silicone, peroxide, and collagen-enhanced actresses (Most interesting [and somewhat confusing] quote: Jenna Jameson, who now exclusively engages in girl-girl scenes because she’s in a committed relationship with a man, reflecting on the confusion she sometimes feels as she partakes in the “best of both worlds,” saying, “I think I might be a lesbian.”).
However, while they didn’t give them equal time (again, they know their audience), the producers did focus on some other aspects of the porn industry, such as actual lesbian porn, made by and for the mullet and flannel crowd, which is very different from the girl-girl films in the mainstream industry that are made by and for guys like me (though maybe, under the circumstances, I should be into the other stuff).
After that, they went all the way over to the other end of the pool.
According to the statistic they put up on-screen, 25 to 50% of the men appearing in gay porn can be described as “gay for pay,” which means that in their personal lives they would define themselves as straight, and that they only have sex with other men on camera because it pays so well.
And apparently it does pay extremely well. Male actors in gay porn are paid much more than their female counterparts in mainstream porn.
Personally, I can’t see how any guy who smokes pole, whether for profit or for pleasure, can refer to himself as straight with…well, with a straight face, but that wasn’t what really stood out for me.
The cameras were on location for the filming of a gay porn and were focusing on a “gay for pay” actor…whose wife was on the set with him.
In fact, she could be seen giving him tips on exactly how he should go about cradling his co-star’s…well, you get the idea.
At one point she even brought him a condom to give to fit his co-star with as they prepared to make a major switch in positions.
So yeah, that’s kind of disturbing, and obviously the relationship between the two of them is a more than a little out there, but even that wasn’t what really bothered me.
The thing that got me is that she was hot. I mean, really hot.
So the whole time I’m sitting there thinking, “This guy sucks cock for a living, and yet he’s got a hot wife. Meanwhile I can’t even get a date.”
I mean, how pathetic are you when even gay porn stars get more chicks than you?
*Sigh*
Today was the first day of my JavaScript class. It was, by the teacher’s own admission, pretty boring, as it was mostly just learning the syntax and a lot of lecture without much actual coding.
Ideally it will get a little more interesting tomorrow as we actually do something with what we’re learning.
Given that it is a pretty technical class and that most technical positions are dominated by men, I was surprised to see that the class had a 50/50 male/female split.
Too bad it proved to be another dog show.
Over the weekend, in addition to swallowing my temporary crown, I ordered volume two of “Batman: The Animated Series,” and volume one of “Superman: The Animated Series” on DVD, and when I got home after picking up my car today they were in my mailbox waiting for me.
So that was cool.
A bit ago I went over to the Safeway to pick up a couple of things. While I was there, I saw something that I don’t ordinarily expect to see in real life. In fact, I really didn’t believe my eyes, as there in front of me was a very, very cute, very tan girl in a pair of extremely short hot pants and a cut-off T-shirt that barely covered her bikini top.
She was like something out of a Britney Spears or Jessica Simpson video.
Naturally I suspected that she was too young for me to be looking at, despite how well she was displaying herself, but she was pushing around her own cart, which suggested to me that she might be old enough to be out in the world on her own.
In fact, she was too young, as she was merely temporarily separated from her mother and her equally hot and scantily-clad teenage friends/siblings/back-up dancers.
Teenage girls are altogether too hot these days. It ought to be against the law.
Oh wait: it is against the law.
*Sigh*
Sometimes it’s hard being a lesbian…