So much going on around these parts. Luckily, tidbits are Hors d’œuvres for the soul:

* I met the new boss. She is tiny and adorable and very young. She looked like a sorority sister (ΩΨ forever!) with her pink cardigan, black Ann Taylor Signature Trousers, and Vera Bradley bag. Her quiet, nymph-like voice and inexpertly-applied eyeliner spoke volumes about her lack of self-confidence. Hot mess of a coworker (high, no doubt) verbally pooed upon being introduced, “It’s good to finally meet you. I’ve been wondering all week if you’d be pretty or ugly.” Uh, wha? Meat For Opiates approached me while she was STILL IN THE STORE and said, “Well, she seems like a cunt”. “Based on what?” I asked. He shrugged and left, apparently disappointed I wasn’t on board the Hate Train. There is nothing about her I particularly dislike and, as far as first impressions go, she makes a pretty good one. She officially starts on Monday, and I sincerely hope she is a thousand times more vicious than she seems. And that she’s not a crier.

* I think that our new Produce Clerk has a bit of a crush on me. First, he approached me, dreamily, and said, “I love it when you use the intercom. You have the nicest voice I have ever heard.” Then a coworker said he was in the break room talking about the same thing and asking people, “Have you ever heard a nicer voice?” Today I showed up to work in a new shade of lip gloss, redder than usual. “Your mouth looks pretty today,” he said, and it was quite an effort for me not to giggle. I’m not interested in him but he’s sweet and harmless. Maybe 45 and married, with five or six kids. Oh, and observant.

* A few days ago, two of my male coworkers got into a physical altercation. I’m not sure what prompted it, but I was standing close by when they tumbled out of the cooler (where the fight began) and into the hall and heard one of them say, “You think you can fuck with my money? You don’t fuck with my money!” Blows were being thrown at that point, so I yelled “FISTICUFFS!” (I’m helpful!) and ran to page the manager on duty. As seems completely appropriate, they are both still employed, even though one has played FIght Club before. Now do you believe me when I say that even if they find out about this blog, I’ll probably be okay? You can’t GET fired from this store!

* I attended SMCRVA this week. It was held at the VMFA, which is closed until next year, but still hosting special events. It was a smaller crowd than last time, and a little more low-key, which I primarily attribute to an earlier start time and the lack of an open bar. Liquor, yes, but two free drinks, then a cash bar. Fortunately, two glasses of wine are MORE than enough to make me chatty and it wasn’t long before I was rubbing elbows and nametags with the social media elite of Richmond. The topic of the presentation didn’t particularly interest me (Social Media for Social Good), but people seemed to enjoy the featured speaker, @gradontripp, and he spoke like some sort of expert, though I’d never have known the difference. By that point, my indoor voice had gone to a stage whisper and I was embarrassing the friends I had forced to sit with me by tweeting and livecommenting the powerpoint presentation displayed on the big screen in front of us. I would apologize, but I maintain that I was funny and they should have kept me from the wine if they weren’t in the mood to be entertained.

After they kicked us out of the museum, some of the attendees headed to Mojo’s, a local restaurant/bar where one of our twitter sisters, @staticRVA, was pouring drinks and charming customers. I stalked and met people in the dark bar that I couldn’t have in the brightly-lit museum, since I am still maintaining some sense of anonymity, and even had a few minutes with a couple of my favorite blogging lay-days. What I DIDN’T attend, due to time constraints, was HashbrownNetworking, a special SMCRVA edition of the weekly gathering of some good friends that I usually don’t miss. Sadly, I wasn’t forward-thinking enough to ask for the next day off, so I couldn’t stay out terribly late. Next month, no question.