Okay, so I have this thing about men on a construction crew. And when I say thing, I don’t mean they’re cute. Let’s just say.........after encountering a construction crew....they end up either cracking up or shaking their heads because they’re wondering if my roots are really blond. Let me give you one example – of which there are many.
I work in a downtown LR skyscraper. When the weather is nice, I like to spend my lunch hour outside alone. It gives me time to kinda get myself back together and after am hour, I’m ready to take on the world again. I usually take my lunch, my book and sometimes I take the cross stitch project I’m working on.
There’s always some kind of construction going on downtown. Construction workers are always walking around downtown going from the construction site to wherever they decide to go to lunch. These guys don’t walk alone....on no.....they walk in packs.
One day, I had my cross stitch project with me. I’d already finished my lunch and I was just stitching away....in my own little world. I get to a point in my project where I’ve gotta turn the pattern over and cut some thread off with scissors when I realize......oh man...I’ve sewn the pattern to my dress! If you know me then you know that I don’t do anything half way. If I mess up, it’s gonna be good. I had sewn enough of this pattern to me that it was gonna take a while to rip all of it out not to mention the fact that I’ve gotta go slow so as not to tear my dress. So I’m sitting there, pulling, tugging, cutting. And it’s pretty obvious to anyone walking by what I’ve done. To like I said, I’m in my own little world, not thinking about my surroundings. But finally, I look up and, yeah, here comes a construction crew. A whole pack of em. They’re close enough to me to see what I’m doing and looking right at me but they’re far enough away for me to have to make a decision. Do I keep on tearing out stitches or do I stop and act like I’m just sewing. Who am I kidding? There really is no decision. It’s too late. They’re already laughing. So they walk by me. Oh, the humiliation. Let’s see, what word would best summarize their actions......um.........how about guffawing? And to make it worse, some of them don’t even speak English and, of course, they’re the ones saying things about me. I wish I knew what they where saying....well, maybe best for me not to know.
I’m not sure what the moral of this story is......um...........be careful what you’re stitching.......or in my case....stay away from construction crews.
I work in a downtown LR skyscraper. When the weather is nice, I like to spend my lunch hour outside alone. It gives me time to kinda get myself back together and after am hour, I’m ready to take on the world again. I usually take my lunch, my book and sometimes I take the cross stitch project I’m working on.
There’s always some kind of construction going on downtown. Construction workers are always walking around downtown going from the construction site to wherever they decide to go to lunch. These guys don’t walk alone....on no.....they walk in packs.
One day, I had my cross stitch project with me. I’d already finished my lunch and I was just stitching away....in my own little world. I get to a point in my project where I’ve gotta turn the pattern over and cut some thread off with scissors when I realize......oh man...I’ve sewn the pattern to my dress! If you know me then you know that I don’t do anything half way. If I mess up, it’s gonna be good. I had sewn enough of this pattern to me that it was gonna take a while to rip all of it out not to mention the fact that I’ve gotta go slow so as not to tear my dress. So I’m sitting there, pulling, tugging, cutting. And it’s pretty obvious to anyone walking by what I’ve done. To like I said, I’m in my own little world, not thinking about my surroundings. But finally, I look up and, yeah, here comes a construction crew. A whole pack of em. They’re close enough to me to see what I’m doing and looking right at me but they’re far enough away for me to have to make a decision. Do I keep on tearing out stitches or do I stop and act like I’m just sewing. Who am I kidding? There really is no decision. It’s too late. They’re already laughing. So they walk by me. Oh, the humiliation. Let’s see, what word would best summarize their actions......um.........how about guffawing? And to make it worse, some of them don’t even speak English and, of course, they’re the ones saying things about me. I wish I knew what they where saying....well, maybe best for me not to know.
I’m not sure what the moral of this story is......um...........be careful what you’re stitching.......or in my case....stay away from construction crews.
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