There’s an interesting pattern of behaviour that has established itself amongst Lower Commune residents.
It seems to start like this:
Subject A arrives home following a bad day at work.
A bad mood is inevitable.
Occasionally this bad mood is compounded by a) Mondays, b) other monthly occurrences, c) personal baggage, d) nasty surprises, or e) all of the above*
Subject A’s bad mood is characterized by such symptoms as a furrowed brow, lack of reapplication of makeup or other negligence of personal hygiene, donning of pyjama pants within five minutes of reentering house, and, especially the frequent emission of a noise best likened to the intolerable drone of a dozen lazy hornets (henceforth “bitching“).
Subject A usually engages in this behaviour at some length, while Subject B nods politely but basically (and wisely) ignores Subject A.
It seems to end like this:
Subject B, unable to tolerate the bitching any longer, says these words: “Do you want a beer?”
Subject A always replies with “Yes, please. Thank god.”
I divide my time between a variety of poverty-inducing ventures: writing for fun and writing for torture; watching far too many movies and reading far too few books.
I have lived previous incarnations as bookseller, bureaucrat, filmmaker, zinester, student, and wayward traveller. I studied Film at Langara after seven years at Simon Fraser entrenched in English, Archaeology and about every other Liberal Arts and social science topic you can imagine.
I am very good at Trivial Pursuit.
I am related to Dr. Samuel Johnson, writer of the first English dictionary, which explains my perfect spelling and penchant for black cats.
I once lived in a house in the South Hill neighbourhood of Vancouver with six people, four cats, one goldfish, and a vegetable garden for a front yard. We called it The Commune. It was where I lived with my husband before he was Husband, before he was Fiance, before he was Boyfriend, back when he was just Boy Roommate. Life was a sitcom and we were the “will they/won’t they.”
We did.
Once we ran away to England because we like having adventures. But we didn’t like it that much, so we came home again.
I have the personality of a superhero’s alter-ego. Only I don’t fight crime. At least not yet.
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3 thoughts on “Behavioural Tendencies of Lower Commune Residents with Focus on Frequency of Alcohol Consumption”
Gorram it Lower Communists, spread the beer love to the Upper Floor!
Gorram it Lower Communists, spread the beer love to the Upper Floor!
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Apologies.
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I’m out of beer.
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