Just discovered TV show "The Real," which apparently consists of vapid women with dark roots & artificial nails talking about the earth-shattering issues of weaves & whether or not you should wear jewelry given to you by an ex. File this under "More Reasons I Don't Want Cable TV."
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Life Insurance
I went to an engagement party recently and the "victim" had no idea what was coming her way. The groom had set it all up by throwing a birthday party for himself and asking us all to bring a wrapped present ("It doesn't matter if it comes from the Dollar Store: Just wrap it so I don't have only one gift to unwrap, OK guys?").
So the end of the night came, we had been driven into their living room by the rain, and he started opening his presents. One had an "I'm a Princess" badge, which he proudly stuck on his tee-shirt as he started to open THE gift. Like Russian nesting dolls, he went through at least 6 brightly colored boxes til he got to the final box on the inside: A tiny jewelry box. He opened it.
"Well look at THIS, honey," he exclaimed. She stood to get a better look and he immediately dropped to his knee and proposed. She bawled, we laughed, and it was hysterical.
On my way out, I hugged her and told her how happy I was for her. Wiping away a tear, she smiled and said "Well, THIS will keep him alive for one more year."
So the end of the night came, we had been driven into their living room by the rain, and he started opening his presents. One had an "I'm a Princess" badge, which he proudly stuck on his tee-shirt as he started to open THE gift. Like Russian nesting dolls, he went through at least 6 brightly colored boxes til he got to the final box on the inside: A tiny jewelry box. He opened it.
"Well look at THIS, honey," he exclaimed. She stood to get a better look and he immediately dropped to his knee and proposed. She bawled, we laughed, and it was hysterical.
On my way out, I hugged her and told her how happy I was for her. Wiping away a tear, she smiled and said "Well, THIS will keep him alive for one more year."
Sunday, July 14, 2013
The Hero
Down the aisle from me in the store stood a skinny man, weather-beaten and tatooed. His little girl stood beside him. She couldn't have been more than 6 or 7 years old. They were picking out candy. He had some device that was loudly playing an annoying country music song that sounded only a little worse than fingernails on a blackboard. I must admit, I saw him as a great annoyance because anyone w...ho knows me knows how much I hate most country music.
But when it came time to ring everything up, the only aisle that was open was the one with the father and daughter, who stood directly in front of me.
He asked the cashier "Do you have any bandaids?"
She said they did but she didn't know where, so I pointed to the aisle they were in.
"No," he explained. "I just need one. Her bandaid is coming off her toe," and he indicated his little girl's foot.
I looked down to see a BEAUTIFUL manicure and for the first time I looked at the little girl carefully. She had on a pretty little cotton dress, her hair was brushed lovingly, and it was neatly pulled back and tied. Her toenails were painted cherry red, with a white heart in the center of each big toe.
"WOW," I said to her. "Who did your nails? They're BEAUTIFUL."
She smiled up shyly and said "My mommy."
"Well anyone can see you have a good mommy," I said. "She takes good care of you."
Her father smiled proudly. "I've just come back from two tours in Iraq," he started to say, and that was all he had a chance to say. I was floored. I said immediately and loudly "You served in Iraq? WOW! May I shake your hand?" Startled but proud, he slowly stuck out his hand. I shook it, and Austin (who was standing behind me) also shook his hand, thanking him for his service. The others in line behind us then chimed in, thanking him profusely.
"I've only been back a short time," he said. "It hasn't been easy. Most people don't say anything like this at all."
"That's a shame," I said, sadly. Then I turned to his little girl and said "Honey, your daddy is a real hero."
As they walked out the door and the cashier rang me up, I heard his little girl say to him "Daddy! That lady said you were a hero!"
...and that's when I teared up.
But when it came time to ring everything up, the only aisle that was open was the one with the father and daughter, who stood directly in front of me.
He asked the cashier "Do you have any bandaids?"
She said they did but she didn't know where, so I pointed to the aisle they were in.
"No," he explained. "I just need one. Her bandaid is coming off her toe," and he indicated his little girl's foot.
I looked down to see a BEAUTIFUL manicure and for the first time I looked at the little girl carefully. She had on a pretty little cotton dress, her hair was brushed lovingly, and it was neatly pulled back and tied. Her toenails were painted cherry red, with a white heart in the center of each big toe.
"WOW," I said to her. "Who did your nails? They're BEAUTIFUL."
She smiled up shyly and said "My mommy."
"Well anyone can see you have a good mommy," I said. "She takes good care of you."
Her father smiled proudly. "I've just come back from two tours in Iraq," he started to say, and that was all he had a chance to say. I was floored. I said immediately and loudly "You served in Iraq? WOW! May I shake your hand?" Startled but proud, he slowly stuck out his hand. I shook it, and Austin (who was standing behind me) also shook his hand, thanking him for his service. The others in line behind us then chimed in, thanking him profusely.
"I've only been back a short time," he said. "It hasn't been easy. Most people don't say anything like this at all."
"That's a shame," I said, sadly. Then I turned to his little girl and said "Honey, your daddy is a real hero."
As they walked out the door and the cashier rang me up, I heard his little girl say to him "Daddy! That lady said you were a hero!"
...and that's when I teared up.
Saturday, July 06, 2013
Legal Welfare "Fraud"
So I'm standing in line at The Dollar Tree. In front of me is a group of 4 overfed adults wearing gaudy jewelry and one adorable thin little girl. The women were all wearing thick makeup, flip flops, and shirts that were at least a size too small for them (but obviously they thought this was sexy). The one male was dressed in designer thug clothing, had the mandatory baseball cap set jauntily to the side, wore the usual large chains and pendants studded with crystals, and his facial hair was trimmed in such an extravagant design as to mark him as "thugalicious".
They were buying 10 large boxes of candy. The cashier was very sweet to them, taking special interest in the girl and chatting with her about the movie they were about to go see as she rang them up. When she hit total, the thug produced his welfare credit card (formerly known as food stamps) and paid for the candy with it. That's when the cashier realized she'd forgotten the little girl's lollipops, so she rang them through, totalled them ($1.07) and that's when one of the porcine women loudly stated "Oh UH uh. I ain't payin fer that fer her out of my OWN money. You jest take it right off."
The cashier, pleasant as ever, said it was no problem and tried to cancel the sale. It wouldn't cancel. So she called over her supervisor who looked over the transaction and apologized but said it had already gone through on their card and there was nothing she could do. Ms. Porcine then said, exasperated, "FINE. Then GIVE me them lollipops" and snatched them from the cashier. Mr. Thugalicious made a dramatic sigh, shook his head, and loudly declared in a paternally disappointed tone "POOR customer service."
At that point I'd had enough.
"REALLY?" I said in my best bored-teenager "are you KIDDING me?" voice, glaring at him.
He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it as he glanced down the long line of people who paid taxes so he could waste his child's food money on candy, and thought better of it. Instead, he did an about-face, and walked out the door.
MY. BLOOD. IS. BOILING.
They were buying 10 large boxes of candy. The cashier was very sweet to them, taking special interest in the girl and chatting with her about the movie they were about to go see as she rang them up. When she hit total, the thug produced his welfare credit card (formerly known as food stamps) and paid for the candy with it. That's when the cashier realized she'd forgotten the little girl's lollipops, so she rang them through, totalled them ($1.07) and that's when one of the porcine women loudly stated "Oh UH uh. I ain't payin fer that fer her out of my OWN money. You jest take it right off."
The cashier, pleasant as ever, said it was no problem and tried to cancel the sale. It wouldn't cancel. So she called over her supervisor who looked over the transaction and apologized but said it had already gone through on their card and there was nothing she could do. Ms. Porcine then said, exasperated, "FINE. Then GIVE me them lollipops" and snatched them from the cashier. Mr. Thugalicious made a dramatic sigh, shook his head, and loudly declared in a paternally disappointed tone "POOR customer service."
At that point I'd had enough.
"REALLY?" I said in my best bored-teenager "are you KIDDING me?" voice, glaring at him.
He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it as he glanced down the long line of people who paid taxes so he could waste his child's food money on candy, and thought better of it. Instead, he did an about-face, and walked out the door.
MY. BLOOD. IS. BOILING.
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