The new boss confessing his darkest secrets and saying �You�re a damn sexy woman� or the cabbie saying he�s going to dream about me and my smell? Holy crap.

It seems it doesn�t matter what I wear to these shindigs I get un-wanted attention! Maybe I should wear a big fricken sign on my head that says �Not available/interested � Don�t even think about it!� Thank god the new boss is moving to Melbourne to assume duties in a few weeks so I can be hundreds of kilometres away. Not looking forward to another drunken party with him around. Ick.

If there was an Australian version of Taxi Cab confessions I�d be it�s first star. I babbled for ages about boring crap (sponsored of course by champagne and copious amounts of wine) to the cab driver and got lewd comments in return. It was a Legend/Hollywood theme for the party and I went as Scarlett O�Hara (if it had been the year before I would have gone as Harlot O�Hara hehe). Everything was covered � I looked like a giant mushroom, no attraction there, right? WRONG! Apparently to the cabbie, Michael, that meant that I looked like a bride and he kept referring to himself as the groom. I started to talk about my time in Japan when I had to pee in the eastern style toilets hoping that would turn him off. WRONG again. Then he started going on about Lebanon (where he�s from and seemed to think I was also Lebanese � I�m actually Caucasian but have been told I look anything from Greek to Italian to Madagascan) and how all their toilets were western toilets. Uh huh, yeah, wanted to know that. Then he continued on to say that if I went to Lebanon I�d have the blokes running away me in the streets begging for me to go to dinner with them. Oh gee Ma, what I�ve always wanted, for hundreds of men to be chasing me down a street. Then he said I had a sexy face and body. Thanks for the reassurance mate but I wasn�t really looking for it from a 40 year old cabbie! You may be asking why I didn�t just ask him to stop the cab and get out and catch another one. Well I don�t know if I was physically capable of catching another cab being the fact that I don�t think I could stand up. I�d been lucky(?) getting this one cause I�d barrelled out of the party and straight into the back seat. As he handed me my credit card back he kissed my hand. EW! Then said he�d dream about me for weeks and remember my smell. Should have thrown up in the cab, that would have given him a smell to remember. Hehe.

I write this now in my organiser as I walk in the door and I�m a little creeped out. I mean, he knows where I live! So I guess I�ll be dreaming about killing randy cabbies tonight.

Night y�all!

A very drunk Tyd

11 August 2001 - 1.00am

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