The one that got away
[ 3 Comments ] Posted on 08.09.05 in funny stories, girls
The other night, there was no milk in the house. This does not bode well for a certain pair of parents I know, as they enjoy a few cups of milked-up coffee every morning. So, they sent me out to the store with three dollars to pick up a quick gallon before I went to bed.
I traveled two blocks to the local Walgreen’s, whereupon I was able to find a gallon of whole milk on sale for less than two dollars. I took it from the freezer and made my way to the cashier.
She was a nice looking girl of about twenty two. Not too tall, and certainly not worthy of such a menial position as a cashier at a twenty four hour drugstore. Either way, I gave her my milk and proceeded to pay her. Thus began one of the sadder confrontations of my life.
She asked, “Do you want your milk in a bag?”
“No, it’s already…”
I was stumped. I didn’t want a bag. But I needed to justify my intentions somehow. So I ended my sentence in just about the stupidest way possible, hoping that she would either ignore my musings or be fooled into mistaking them for humor.
“No, it’s already in a carrying… uh… container.”
I knew it was over for me. My cover was blown, and it was obvious that I had been one quip short of success that night. She immediately and quite sarcastically shot back, “That was a really funny joke. No, really.”
Hoping that we could put the past behind us, I attempted to speed up and move on with the transaction, but to no avail. “No, really. That was _really_ good. You’re a funny guy. Really.”
I thanked her and then left, knowing well that there was yet another woman that would never take me seriously, all thanks to an ill-contrived one-liner.
Life with Loopy
[ 4 Comments ] Posted on 08.01.05 in observations
The belt is a great invention. It can hold up pants, whip disobedient children, and, if you’re a real handyman in a desperate situation, it can even act as a replacement belt in car engines.
But, as with any seemingly benign thing in the world, with the belt comes a certain degree of risk. The risk is not a particularly catastrophic hazard, but since I’m one of the most socially paranoid people I know (and trust me when I say that I know a lot of people), it can harbor some significant psychological perils.
Of course, I’m talking about the rare happenstance when you miss a belt loop. Sure, if you catch it right away as you’re slipping into your old faded Levis, it’s easily remediable. But if the snafu manages to slip you by and you walk out into public with a pair of inadequately accessorized trousers, you’re bound to be noticed. And when that happens, my friend, what is a boy to do?
Knowing that you missed a belt loop following notification from an outlandishly critical public is just about the most vulnerable feeling in the world. How do you handle it? You could excuse yourself and find a corner in which to reassess your attire, but there’s always that interim period wherein you are completely aware of your shoddy dress, but there’s nothing you can do about it. Then again, you could always just unbuckle then and there and repair the misdoings of earlier in the day, but that has the potential of being ill-received, as the majority of the world does share my standard of etiquette (or lack thereof).
Alas, there is no easy answer. However, if I ever unbuckle my belt near you, please don’t take it the wrong way. I don’t know any better.