I didn't sit by this Real Man of Genius (Mr. Way Too Much Cologne Wearer) during today's ALL-DAY workshop.
Instead, I sat by Mr. Clip His Nails On and Off for Seven Hours, Collecting Them in a Small Pile.
It was like torture. If he had clipped them all at once, it would have been better. (Socially unforgivable, yes...but without that horrifying element of suspense. It was like someone unwrapping a piece of candy for SEVEN HOURS.)
He kept playing with his clipper. Bandying it about. Tossing it hither and thither. And then clipping a nail. And then saving the nail to add to his growing collection. An hour could go by without another dreaded snip! Bethany would have lost her ever-lovin' mind.
And there was nothing I could do. Nothing. I could not escape, and the workshop was so full that we didn't have enough chairs...I was stuck with the worst Real Man of Genius of all.
I'm getting there early tomorrow to stake my seating claim. On an end. Near decent people. Because there isn't enough Bud Light in Texas to get me through another seven hours with The Yankee Clipper...