Just wonderin’ if th’ earth would eventually deflate. Try this one three times quickly:
“How much crude can one hole spew if the screwed up well can’t be subdued?”
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I work part-time at an upscale market in New Orleans. As most everything here revolves around food and drink, it’s an interesting place to get insight on the city. The store also has an extensive wine and liquor department, and it is not an exaggeration to say that on many busy evenings over half of our customers have a bottle of wine or two in their cart to go with their groceries.
Our store is also noted for its baked-fresh-through-the day French bread, often, it is the only item they are getting: “Dinner is cooking – just needed the bread!” is an everyday occurrence.
Pretty regularly that someone will come through my checkout line with just those things: a bottle or two of wine, and a loaf of French bread. Frequently it is one of our store regulars, and as they greet me and I see their selections gliding toward me on the belt, I greet them with a leading, “Ahhh, a loaf of bread, a jug of wine and….?”
I get a blank stare in return.
Keep in mind that this is an upscale place that caters to a much more white collar than blue collar demographic, including a lot of university types, as a couple of major campuses are close at hand. Only on a couple of occasions has anyone picked up on the comment and finished it – and, much to my chagrin, nobody has added their own little risqué spin on the end
A few weeks back I had a regular customer, guy about my age, come through the line with just those two items; two loaves of our fresh bread, and a pricey bottle of wine. “Ahhh” said I, “A loaf of bread, a jug of wine and…?” A look of surprise followed immediately by the light bulb going off:
“Jeez. I got nothin’, Mark. Or should I say nobody!”
“Aw, I’m sorry.” He swipes his credit card through the machine.
“Yeah, well…now it’s all I’m gonna be thinking about thanks to you! Me and my wine and my bread and Friday night alone…you’re probably really disappointed in me, I know! I know! I’ll try to do better next time I come through your line!”
His tone was one of exasperation but he had a very wry smirk. He grabbed his bags, finished his transaction and gave me a wink and a smile as he walked off – gestures not noticed by the woman behind him in line who stepped up with a look of dismay and a tone of indignation. “Didn’t do that guy any favors tonight, did ya? Glad I don’t have any wine tonight!”
The next Friday, same scenario, different regular. “Ahhh, a loaf of bread, a jug of wine and….?”
“I see where you’re going.” The guy smiles, shakes his head, sighs. “No, unfortunately. Not today.” He chuckles as he signs the credit card reader. “There goes a darn good story, too. Maybe next time, I’ll have one for you.” Adding, “Later, Mark!” as he waves and walks off.
Next customer in line, a woman in her forties, has been watching the exchange with interest and disappointment. “Well, that was sad.”
Must be a guy thing.
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At the age of fifty-one, it is interesting to post a new entry on this blog, then note later that there were just two comments made on it; from my mother…and my senior prom date.
She is now married (the PD, not mom) to one of my best friends from high school, and he drops in the periodic comment as well. Now, it’s not just a blog – it’s a potential Jerry Springer episode.
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And now, your haiku du jour:
seldom are; for randomness
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Last week while on vacation in St.Louis my wife was in the hotel pool, frolicking with sixth-grader Sam, when I came in to join the fun. Any and Sam had been playing volleyball with a beach ball, and they wanted me to join them. Once in the pool, I did just that, but not before wading over to embrace and kiss my wife, while also trying to keep the batted beach ball airborne, Amy’s back to Sam, me swatting at it over her shoulder. After a few bats back and forth, the ball hit the water, and we tried again – though my attention was obviously more on my wife than on the beach ball, which Sam noted drolly and accurately, “Kissing while multi-tasking not your thing, dad.”
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Whenever I’m on Facebook (FB), it sends me these odd little reminders about things it somehow thinks I might like, based on things I clicked ‘LIKE’ on previously. This is not unique to my experience, I know, but in talking with others it doesn’t seem to match up the same things in the same way – must be that newfangled ‘personalized’ FB experience I keep hearing about.
A thumbnail picture of the Mona Lisa pops up, with the tag-line “Painting – many people who like graffiti like this.” Sure…makes sense to me. I know how the graffiti part came in – my cousin’s son in Minneapolis is part of an anti-graffiti group, and I clicked on ‘like’ for their post one time. I like the Mona Lisa, but linking these two things together seems a bit incongruous to me; maybe if it were graffiti and say, ancient cave art – we might be on to something.
But not as much as they goofy things FB thinks will interest me because I have (on multiple occasions, I am very sure) expressed my interest in/passion for all things baseball. Today it is hockey that the mighty FB deems worthy of my attention. The other day it was soccer, last week it was basketball (a downhill slide from fascinating to sheer boredom running unabated) and the week before that it was…
Now this was something I could sink my teeth into (although in my youth I much preferred tether ball – decapitation was always an accepted playground possibility before we went litigation crazy in America) and I held out hope that maybe, just maybe, FB would try to get me interested in kick ball.
Ahh, but back to graffiti, which could have easily been paired with four-square because both involve painting on an outdoor surface but wasn’t. Just out of annoyance, I clicked the ‘x’ to kill the painting/graffiti match, and lo-and-behold – it replaces it with…‘Cooking – many people who like graffiti like this.’ Hmmm. Now my curiosity pump is primed. I X that baby out and I get the TV show House…ostensibly because I like graffiti. Now I’m really hooked; X out House, and I get ‘drawing’ (O.K.) which is followed by swimming (Ummm…?) tennis (yeah, when I think graffiti I Think ‘Wimbeldon’) and then…
Sigh. Methinks Facebook telling me what I might like because I like something else is nothing more than cyber- graffiti.
But don’t tell it I said that.
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So much for my weekend brain-dump. Ciao.