This week, only three days long so far, is turning out to be a doozy. I have, it seems, found everyway that I can appear a complete idiot without trying. Some might say that this is a pretty simple task and begin to cite instances that will ultimately prove that the odd times are when I'm not doing something stupid or rude. To these people I say, "Hah! but I wasn't drinking at the time!" Well, at least for two of these I wasn't.
WELL, HELLO OFFICER
My cousin Luke's son began working at the Gray's Warehouse last week, so I have been dropping him off in the morning on the way to the office.
This week is junk pickup in the neighborhood, and the city dumptrucks are all over the place. I don't mean there are many of them, I mean that the bastards couldn't put a hard dick in a bucket of warm lard, much less a large truck to the side of the road. I don't know who taught them to drive, but I bet she has bleach-blond hair and drives a camaro with t-tops.
This morning I was trying to get around one of these trucks, and I came upon a minivan on opposite. We were making all of the "get the hell out of my way, asshole" motions to get the other to move, with no luck. So I backed up enough so that if he knew how to drive he could get around. Well, he decided to pull along side and start to roll down his window, so I did the same, knowing that he just stepped into the road-rage-ring, and round one ALWAYS goes to Andy.
"WHAT, MOTHER FUCKER?," was my gentle request of his intentions.
He responded in the same calm manner with, "WHY THE HELL WERE YOU BLOCKING THE INTERSECTION?"
"BECAUSE YOUR FUCKING ASS CAME OUT OF NOWHERE FROM BEHIND THAT TRUCK AND WOULDN'T FUCKING MOVE!" I knew that logic generally wins people over, and that a light reminder and a kind smile go very far in defusing a situation.
Lowering the tone he said, "You better watch yourself."
"Or you'll what, Curly?" I said, curtly reminding him of his shiny bullet like dome.
This is where He shows me his badge, and I just say, "Well, hello officer" and drive away.
Round One: Officer Curly
I DISLIKE FLYING BATS
Ok, so after dark the Coon comes out on the roof of Bob's hizzy, so I think, "Get the bat and see what kind of dammage you can do." Well, did I show me what kind of damage I could do.
Standing on Bob's central air unit is no problem. Swinging a bat is no problem. Swinging a bat while standing on the central air unit is a problem. In sequence:
Andy runs between houses, hops on the air unit while swinging a bat at the coon running allong the edge of the roof.
Andy is 5' and the fully extended bat doesn't connect with the roof, coon, or any solid surface.
Momentum from running and the swinging bat makes Andy leave the surface of the air unit and hurling toward earth like a low-flying Icarus.
The bat, at the peak of its pendulum arc and still in my hand connects rather forcefully against the side of my knee.
Coon 1, Andy 0
THIS IS DEFINITELY WHERE I PARKED MY CAR
I was caught up in getting caught up, and it caught up with me. I almost missed an appointment today, so I quickly drove to UofL directly instead of parking at the store and walking over, since I would arrive sooner, and not all sweaty from the 8thof a mile walk.
I pulled up to the info booth and tell the young lady who has continents for boobs that I'm visiting one professor, that I'll only be about a half an hour, and get my parking pass. So far, so good.
After parking, I walk past the booth, wave at Hooty McHuge, and go to the education building. I talk to professor Plumb for about 10 minutes and leave. Out the door, and back over to Gray's.
I talk to the text manager, help dolly some boxes, and go to leave.
Out the east door and look- nothing.
Over to the west door, telling a young lady that i must be over there. Look- nothing.
I walk back in, think for a minute, and lowly exclaim, "Sweet bucket of shit. How retarded am I?"
That's when one of the employees said, "Pretty damn. I saw you park your car at the north lot about twenty minutes ago." I now refer to him as "Oh yeah, well fuck you."
I walked back to campus, waved to Her Boobness (who, by the way, has a nose stud. I was told that they are to keep the ejaculate from coming out while fellating), and got into my car with two minutes to spare.
Habit trumps, and I'm 0-3.
I love this week.
4 comments:
Well, look on the bright side. After you kill the coon you can make a nice hat to keep the bald officer's head warm, and a paw keychain has got to be the truest path to a parking attendant's heart.
There are no problems, only opportunities. Or something.
That's what I like about you, Ted. You always look for the pot of gold at the end of the Leprechaun.
So did the rest of the week get any better?
Don't do that to me Andy.
Now I've got snort-drool all over myself and the receptionist is doing her "He's like so totally wierd" routine as I snarf away in my office.
"Momentum from running and the swinging bat makes Andy leave the surface of the air unit and hurling toward earth like a low-flying Icarus" - that's some quality visual right there. Keep up the stupidity, I need to laugh.
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