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08.02.03 August - 9:13 PM
So here's a story I thought the girls in the group would appreciate. And maybe even some of the guys...if they can get past the squeemers. A few months back I was working with my dad repainting the inside of a house of one of my dad's customers (he's a private contractor). One of the mornings I was to go in, I remembered that we were out of masking tape and stopped by the store to pick some up. I didn't consider this trip to be out of the way, in fact, I was planning on going anyhow for toilet paper. The house we were working on was owned by men and I had used the last few scraps of TP the day before. Oh. And I had also gotten my period that day and had to pick up supplies. Imagine this check out picture if you will: A six-pack of Charmin's Ultra Soft toilet paper One pack Always with Wings Maxis One box Maximum Strength Pamprin One roll Masking Tape The middle aged lady in front of me wearing a very smart light blue track suit had taken her sweet time packing up her purchases and also, therefore, taking a bit of time checking out MY purchases. "Boy, looks like there's one hell of a party going on at your house." Nice. I suddenly got these horrible thoughts of a house full of PMS-ing women high off of Maximum Strength Pamprin with one poor man sitting in a chair being tied up with masking tape and Charmins Ultra Soft.
Chloe takes a bite out of crime Speaking of embarrassing stories, here's another one for you. I'm in the local gas station picking up the usual, (READ: gas, cigarettes, lottery ticket, and one can sugarfree Red Bull) and I'm up by the cooler when I notice a fairly attractive man glancing over at me. Since I'm dating someone now who I truly enjoy, incidents like this, though few and far between, are just taken lightly. Meaning, someone checking me out lifts my spirits and makes me feel pretty (Oh so Pretty and Witty and Briiight!) (thanks Natalie) but it isn't anything I'd ever act on. You just smile, feel good about it, and go home and kiss your boyfriend. So anyhow, I'm standing there, one hand on the cooler door and one hand on my precious caffine, smiling at the fact that someone is kinda of giving me the once over when all of a sudden, I sneeze. The fairly attractive man said, "Bless you." Now I would have liked to have said, "Thanks." Or at the very least a quick nod of gratitude. I would have done both if not for the fact that my hand was full of snot. No, worse than a hand of snot. A hand of snot with a string of redirection going straight back to my nose. My moment of ego was gone. Driving back home I couldn't help but think to myself that this guy was going to go back and write out a Missed Connection ad that read: Shell Station, Capitol Drive 3:18pm. Me: Tall, blonde, wearing blue button down shirt. You: Tall, brunette braids, "Eat Me" T-shirt. Let's get together and find out where exactly you rubbed off that snot. Mailbox: 3R998K Later kids, I'm out.
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