Ok, so I've turned into a trash talker, but I blame it on the fact that I've spent my youth in television.
J' accuse, Mutha Plucker.
At the tender age of 23, I walked through the doors of The Special K fresh-faced, innocent, naive, optimistic, unjaded. I wore skirts for Pete's sake! I was only 120 pounds then, had shapely gams and ginormous 80s hair. It was two years before I got married and became incredibly happy and fat in the process, but that's a different story. Dude, I was like balloon-face girl. Double chin, puffy cheeks, cheese curls attractively stuck in my toothy grin. No shit. People used to think I was preggers. Ignorant fucks.
But my point is this, I kind of tend to swear. A lot.
All. The. Fucking. Time.
It's a byproduct of working in television, much like sleeping disorders and twisted irreverence. It's a cursing disorder and it's real. Pinkie swear. Look it up on Wikipedia... as soon as I create that page, I mean.
Hello, my name is Murray and I have a Cursing Disorder.
I swear to God I was a man in a past life. Probably a dock worker. I can't help it, man. I just love to cuss. Love it. I love the way uttering vulgarities feels tripping off my tongue, especially the pressure of my teeth against my curled lower lip right before the explosion of air from deep in my diaphragm propels the f-bomb forth unto the world. Total physical and mental satisfaction wrapped up in one efficient move.
Wait. What was my point of all this lewd language love?
I don't know. Is there ever a point in these ramblings? (that's rhetorical, asshat. I'll get to the point eventually. probably. don't hold your breath.)
I met these two wonderful young ladies from Germany. The one, Christina, is in absolute love with all things Pittsburgh... The city, it's inhabitants and it's sports teams, especially the Penguins. We became imaginary friends via Twitter, electronic pen pals, if you will, through our mutual love of Pittsburgh Hockey. She brought her architect friend, Gabi, a Burgher virgin.
|Christina and Gabi |
enjoying a not-so-rare sunny day
So my thinly veiled point is this: I realized two days after I'd met these lovely ladies, that OMG they probably think I am the biggest potty mouth in the world. Of course when you have a blog, you can say whatever you want because, you know, it's you're fucking blog, right? And this blog, well this blog allows my ID to run free. My ID's a profane, fucking asshole, yo.
Ooops. See, there I go again.
But omigosh, she's going to think I am just this crazy, cocktail-swilling, cigarette-smoking, foul-mouthed chick from the Burgh. Of course, when I met them, our conversation was so engaging and lovely, I didn't curse at all. I don't think so anyway. I don't know. I don't remember. Oh, shit, goddammit, did I? I don't remember.
Again, with the swearing thing. It just... happens. It's who I am. I blame the crap that goes down at the Special K. I can't help it. Anyway, job hazard. Sorry.
But enough of my rationalizing...
site of my long-term indentured servitude
We met up at the Crazy Goat coffee shop so I could take them on a tour of our studios. I've been at the K for so long, I don't even see my surroundings anymore. I've lost the "wow" factor from toiling in broadcasting. It's just work to me. Seeing this all-too-familiar environment through their fresh eyes, unclouded my cynical ones.
The girls were so excited to be in the studio. They literally giggled to sit at the news desk. Christina was giddy pointing out the sets she has seen on her computer when she watches our broadcasts overseas.
|the set of Pittsburgh Today Live|
Their enthusiasm reminded me how lucky I am to have this cool job.
Do NOT tell my boss.
We took full advantage of the gorgeous, sunny April day by dining al fresco in Market Square. Christina, who I swear knows more about Pittsburgh hotspots living in Munich than I do living in the South Hills, picked a newer burger joint, Wingharts, for our lunchtime fare. Delicious!
Big ass burger doesn't even begin to describe it. I made the mistake of ordering fries, too. We barely made a dent, but seriously, what mere mortal can pass up the enticing aroma of perfectly fried potatoes? Impossible.
We noshed on the half-pounders oozing brie cheese and bacon while talking non-stop for hours about everything and nothing, as if we had been friends for decades. Before we knew it, it was 3:45 and time to part company. They are so delightful, I could easily have spent two more hours getting to know them more. But, alas, they had places to be, so we said our farewells and off they went to their next adventure.
|the view from the bridge|
or river bank, as it were
I had such a blast with Christina and Gabi. I can't express what a pleasure it was to have met them. We're no longer imaginary, but real life friends now. I miss them. They are terrific ambassadors to our watery hamlet. Next time they visit, I'm going to drag Geo along. He'd love them, too.
The world keeps getting smaller and smaller in a marvelous way.
You can catch up with Christina and Gabi's Pittsburgh tour on Christina's blog here. I have lots of great places to explore now thanks to her.
(all but the first photo taken by Gabi Obert)