sports_port_refuses_to_hire_megalomaniac andru235 some big guys and a big gal were standing around in a semi-circle, and when i entered Sports Port they all looked at me. i figured i would fare better this time than i did at the ballet studio (roxanne's_assistant_refuses_to_hire_megalomaniac). "job, please." i said, holding out my hand to the first bearer of a nametag i saw. he chomped on some gum and gave me a flat, expressionless once-over. "what are you all doing over there," i said to the semi-circle of tough-looking folks. i tried to remember that i was now a megalomaniac, and tacked on, "not that i care." "city rugby team," said one guy. i nodded. to the Sports Port employee i said, "putting in a new carpeting, eh?" he said, "what can i help you find?" "well, i thought no one would ever ask!" i said, sighing with relief. "hold on," i said, kneeling to tie my shoe. "ok, well first, i need some lovin'. it would be great if you could help me find mr. right. but i'd settle for mr. right now. excuse the cliche." "i think your in the wrong place," he said with eyes of the bulldog. "not surprising," i agreed. "hmmm...what else...could you help me find an interdimensional portal so i can go home now?" the look on his face implied that he couldn't. the jeering laughs from the semi-circle suggested that they had some ideas, though. "how about any of you?" i solicited. "interdimensional portal?" i specified the dimension but they just smirked and said nothing. "well, third on the list would be -" the Sports Port employee interrupted me, clarifying, "how about a sporting good? do you need..." he glanced me over "...a chess board or something?" i can assure you that megalomaniacs don't like being interrupted. four days ago i wouldn't have cared, but everything now had to change. megalomania is not something to mess with. but surprisingly, i was thrilled! he had just called chess a SPORT! not that i'm any good at chess. "i think i'm falling in love with you," i said sincerely, and the others laughed while he blushed. "get outta here," he said, only half-joking. "what?" i said, drawing myself up to stature. i figured if i was manipulated by some asshole scientists into leveling hiroshima, i wouldn't have any trouble holding my own against jocko. "do you have a problem with homosexuality?" i asked, and informed him matter of factly, "because in 1972 the american psychiatric organization declared it is NOT a psychologic disorder." "hey pamela," he said to the lady. "do we have a problem with homos?" pamela rolled up her sleeve, revealing a Š Š tattoo making her GLBT affiliation quite clear. "hey there my lesbian sister!" i said in a pert, cheery voice. "get 'im, boys!" pamela ordered aggressively. ... when i regained consciousness i found myself in the dumpster behind the strip mall. i clamored out of the dumpster, ruing things such as disappointing_recipes and moon-landings. then i remembered that it was time to return to the fortune teller. 051024 ... andru235 fortune_teller_refuses_to_hire_megalomaniac see PART TWO 051026 what's it to you? who go blather from