So, I go to the polls to vote today, show my id, and the woman wants to know what kind of ballot I want.
“Paper or plastic?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry. Paper or electronic. I keep doing that.”
“Let’s do paper, it’s better for the environment.”
So, I’m standing in Wendy’s waiting in line. At the cashier in front on me is a mom who has her attention divided between trying to pay and watching her daughter back at the table.
All of the sudden she startles me with a yell, “No Ma’am! I do not want to drink from a straw that’s been up your nose.”
While the mental image was amusing unto itself, I can only guess what other recent activities had escaped her attention in the past.
Was reading on WebMD about the Brain Eating Amoeba:
And it happens fast: Victims usually die seven to 10 days after infection, although symptoms may not appear for up to 14 days.
Initial symptoms include headache, fever, nausea, vomiting, and stiff neck.
I’m trying to picture how a corpse has a fever or complains of a headache.
This weekend, my sister and niece came to visit for the weekend. That meant going to a lot of playgrounds, getting wet in fountains, building things with blocks, and the big treat: going out for steak dinner. I invited my friend Marcus to join us.
During the ride home, I asked Marcus and my sister if either of them had heard any more news about the FAA being accused of hiding controllers’ mistakes by blaming them on pilots. Neither of them had heard anything about it, so I quickly conveyed the details and described by the Washington Post.
Figuring my niece was half-paying attention, I decided to drift the conversation more toward the way of life-lessons. “You know, it’s okay to make mistakes. You just have to take responsibility for them, and offer to help fix them. You’re more likely to be forgiven, than if you hide it — cause that will get you into more trouble.”
My sister chimed in about that being true, helping to reinforce the proper behavior at home.
Marcus added to that, “The people that fly the airplanes should simply follow the golden rule: do unto others as you’d have them do unto you.” I nodded, and he continued, “Don’t lie… Don’t steal…” His inflection indicated he was starting to struggle for some more values to list.
My niece picked up on that, interrupting with “Don’t commit adultery!”
The car went silent. Absolutely silent.
Marcus looked at me, I looked at him, my sister went brilliant red. Did she even know what that word meant?
“I’m not exactly sure how that applies to pilots, but we can run with that,” Marcus recovered quite gracefully.
Unfortunately, I didn’t help. The next words out of my mouth were “Giggity-giggity.” The kid was right.
The other night I had the most sublime hot dog. I don’t mean it was good, I mean it turned straight to gas.
The place was the MCI Center, and I got to see the Wizards play the… oh, who am I kidding. I was trying to make out the cheerleaders from four stories up while eating 6 oz of cotton candy from a plastic $5 bucket. Which, I might add, I refused to throw out since I paid so bloody much for it.
“So, Walt, we’re thinking of having you over for Christmas. Have you ever had lamb before?”
“Yeah…”
“Oh. What’d you think?”
“I didn’t care for it that much,” And as I noticed the old lady listening in, I quickly added, “but the Bar-B-Que kittens were delicious.”
This prompted the look I was after. And she instantly engaged Mike in conversation to check the veracity of our conversation. At least enough to ascertain that we were good friends.
As the conversation took a turn to prior places lived, it turns out Mike and the old lady had both been to Germany. And, much to the confusion of those around them, started speaking in German. And they did quite well, I must say.
Too well. Cutting me out of the conversation, along with every other eavesdropper in earshot.
I informed Mike that this was America, and that we spoke English here; then I asked to see his legal status. Normally, I don’t engage in this kind of bold maneuver with an armed officer of the law, but by now the overpriced confections instilled a bravery that only spun sugar can do.
Naturally I backed down as he has more ways to kill me in his little finger than a pissed off villain in a James Bond movie.
At this point the train arrived, and I sat down next to the nice little old lady. And her friend. And some other chick who thought it might be the wiser move to ignore me.
“So,” asked the little old lady, “how do you know each other?”
“Him?” I glanced to Mike. “He’s my parole officer.”
Mike over heard enough to flash his handcuffs at me. The little old lady looked mildly uncomfortable and changed the topic.
“Where were you seated?” she inquired.
I explained we were in the 400’s. She then wanted to compare ticket prices (like that mattered now). And then we compared how many times we’ve been to a game at the MCI Center.
There’s a lot of promotional stuff going on at these events, whether it’s Chipotle throwing burritos into the crowd or t-shirts being dropped from parachutes to lucky winners below.
“So,” she continued, “have you ever caught anything at a game?”
“A cold.”
While I got a polite chuckle for quick delivery, she had enough and said, “get your friend; I want to talk with him.”
I yelled over to Mike, who was standing by the door. “She wants to talk with you, apparently I said something again.”
The chick to my left had vacated at the prior stop, so I slid into her old spot, and Mike took mine in front of the old lady.
And immediately, she switched into German again. Clearly, she wanted to practice.
I leaned over and said, “excuse me, you’re talking in code again.”
Mike turned to me and said, quite loudly, “I’m sorry. She said you had a nice ass.”
Without missing a beat, I addressed the old lady, “It’s true. You may be wondering why I’m covering my lap with a bucket.”
Mike, it turns out, wasn’t the only person to bust out laughing, seems a lot of people were riding our conversation, not just the train.
This morning as I was leaving the house to go to work, I gave the wife a hug and a kiss goodbye. And let me tell you, she smelled awesome.
So, I stuck around an extra minute.
“You smell fantastic! What are you wearing?” I asked, plowing my nose behind her ear.
She thought, “Uh, nothing. Maybe it’s the laundry?”
I smelled the fabric of her soft shirt. Instantly the scent of wild flowers, babbling brooks, and summer breezes sent me reeling into fond memories.
Without thinking, I replied “Yup. That’s it. You should wear clothes more often!”
She went red.
Apparently I like my women dressed. I didn’t know that about myself.
So some of our really cool friends who live in the neighborhood hold this amazing backyard party each year, in which they rent an enormous water slide that’s about as tall as their two story house.
The day after the party, their real friends head back over to help clean up. And that was what we were doing tonight.
As it started to rain outside, we all gathered the external lights, furniture, food, tables, and so forth. I made a run for a huge extension cord, feeling that electricity and water wouldn’t mix.
Their little girl decided to help me. And, while untangling the cord, she engages me in the most adult conversation that I’ve had with her in the past three years.
She begins, “So, how come you didn’t go down the water slide with me?”
“Well, we had some friends come over, and they wanted to talk.”
“I know. That’s all you do guys do is talk. It’s so boring.”
Remembering this feeling exactly while I was a kid, I thought I’d get her perspective. “Yeah, I know - what should we be doing?”
She paused, placing her finger on her chin. “I think you should do video games and play board games more.”
With a look that I had been given total enlightenment, I replied: “Oh my gosh, I feel like I’ve just been wasting my whole life away.”
“I know,” she agreed a little too quickly.
“Where’s you learn all this?”
She puffed out her six year old chest with pride. “I’m in the first grade.” And as I took in her achievement, she added “Yes, it’s true. I graduated from pre-school. I’m very, very smart.”
And together we wrapped up the rest of the cord, she carried it in, and I went down stairs to play video games with the adults. Honest to God, cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.
Recently we went to Colorado to visit my sister who was having her second baby. Our job was to babysit her 21 month old, while she did the hard work at the hospital.
They were very kind in lending us their hybrid van and a baby seat, which allowed us to trek around town without being stuck in the comfort of a custom built home, trapped on mountain with spontaneously visiting wildlife, surrounded by nature and vast scenic panoramic views.
My dad sent an email asking if we could pick up a box of nice chocolate, so that when my sister got home from the hospital, she’d have something to enjoy. Sure, we could do that. Perfect excuse to ride into town.
So, we put the toddler in the van and drove to Safeway.
Now in Colorado, it’s dry. Very dry. So you have to drink a lot of water to stay hydrated. As such, my wife sent me on a mission to get the chocolate, while she hunted down the facilities.
So, I pushed the baby over to the candy aisle, then the cooking aisle, then the checkout counters, …no boxed chocolate to be found.
Then it hit me: try the florist.
As I got near the section, the toddler went nuts as we passed the stuffed animals. However, as we got closer, it was quite clear his real interest was in the balloons. And, since we already had a four foot mylar balloon tied to the shopping cart, I figured I’d head right to the service desk where I abruptly startled a woman cutting flowers that didn’t see me coming.
“Excuse me.”
“Wha?! Oh, yes. May I help you?”
“I hope so. I’m looking for boxed chocolates.”
“Did you try the candy aisle? We sell flowers, here.”
“Yes, I tried that, but no boxed sets. So I thought I’d have better luck here.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because this is the general ‘apology’ section, is it not?”
She pondered for a moment what I was getting at, and then the image of chocolates and flowers together hit her. “Oooooh!” she smiled, “What exactly are you apologizing for?”
I couldn’t help myself. It was evil. It was wrong.
I looked at the toddler, then back at her, and said: “I thought it was your turn to use the contraceptive.”
…she personally led me to the most expensive boxed chocolates at the front of the store.
I’m in the Art section of Borders, and I walk in on a conversation that’s just starting between some guy who’s failing miserably at hitting on a college girl…
Guy: “You look like you’re angry.”
Girl: “You can tell I’m not angry, because I’m not sketching.”
“You sketch when you’re angry?”
“Yeah. If I’m mad at somebody, I draw a picture of them on a bus heading to hell.”
“Hell?”
“Sometimes Ohio.”
(pregnant pause) “Have you ever thought that might be a serious sign of a repressed mental illness?”
“Maybe. But, I really hate Ohio.”
My wife and I went out to lunch, and she asked me how work was going.
“Well, it’s alright… I haven’t been able to spend any time coding, we’ve been in meetings the past few days.”
“How come you don’t just write code?”
“Cause we haven’t discussed the right thing to build, we haven’t had any meetings; …see, we’d been coding.”
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