Maybe I’d call it “chez grandmalin”.
When I picked grandmalin as a ‘user name’ all I was doing was putting grandma together with Lin. Seemed innocent enough until someone who knows a lot more about the French language than I ever will wanted to know why I called myself grand malin, or “big malignancy”. Sigh.
‘Malin’ can also translate to ‘clever’, so maybe somewhere in the back of my brain in that tiny little cluster of cells where my french is stored, I thought I was being grandly smart.
Anyway, I don’t want to own a restaurant, and I sincerely hope no one can make me do that. Nor do I want to scare off French-speaking people with duplicitous names.
I think a small coffee shop might be something I could handle, or that I could get other people to manage and run while I sit around drinking coffee all day. And since I seem to have French in my head at the moment, maybe I could call it The French Press. And then people would come in looking for foreign language newspapers.
Buzz Because. Would that work? Please don’t tell me it translates into something sinister in Greek. I don’t care.
Would you ever use an online dating service? Why or why not? Have you already?
If I was desperate for a date, I guess I might. And no, I have not already, because I’ve never been desperate for a date.
Well, okay, maybe there was that one time when I had to go to the spring prom the year after I graduated from high school to crown the next prom queen. Whoever thought up that stupid tradition probably also invented online dating for just such an emergency.
But no worries, even without the internet I managed to dig up some guy to escort me. Didn’t have to pay him or anything, although I sure can’t remember what was in it for him. The pleasure of my sarcastic eye rolling company I guess.
At this point in my life I certainly don’t have any high school proms looming in my forseeable future, and even going on an actual ‘date’ is a real stretch of the imagination. Especially one arranged online. Because I’ve heard some horror stories. Like how you should put 911 on speed dial on your phone and choose a crowded coffee shop with several exits for your meeting place and even then it could all go horribly wrong.
Really I’m just a complete chicken shit and can’t imagine any of it. Although I do believe it’s the way of the future. And just like being introduced to your cousins girlfriends fathers nephews friend from some place you’ve never heard of and having it all work out….I think the odds of finding someone worth the effort online are just as good.
I’m going to drive my old jaloffey
Down the road to Manderhoffie
Where I’ll buy a cup of coffee
In a shoppe that’s called Gaddafi
It will taste of cream and toffee –
Never floffy, tart or doffy.
It will make me feel quite boffy!
Hoffy, poffy, and yumoffy!
They do make the best damned coffee
In the town of Manderhoffie.
Though their tea is quite put offey.