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I, Underdog.
The Blog Madness continues.
In this round (round 2 of the Bills Division) my story is up against BrokenType and his story "A Defense of Urban Animal Husbandry". Simply put, BrokenType is good and this story is really funny.
When you get a chance, make you way over to Blog Madness and give the entries a read. Then vote for the entries you like the best.
1/31/2004 10:58:04 PM
"But gee Mark, is it sexy?"
I mentioned to you a few post back that I have recently regained my memory.
I wish I could tell you a heart warming story about how I was bonked on the head when I was on my 110 foot schooner in the Mediterranean Sea. How I passed out and fell into the murky depths and almost drowned. How my loving wife bravely jumped into the deadly, shark-infested waters (risking not only life, but limb too) in order to save me from the watery grave. I wish I could tell you about the many months my loving family waited with bated breath around my hospital bed while I lay in the nether world of a coma. How on the 131st day of that coma I awoke, not being able to remember my name or any of the events of my past, my mind was a slate wiped clean from the trauma. I wish I could tell you about the undying dedication of my wife, beside me every waking moment, trying to coax even the faintest whispers of a recollection of times past. I wish I could tell you of the tears of joy of my first eureka moment. The day that I started remembering again. The day when my arch-nemesis "amnesia" had given up the ghost! That day I started living again, born anew!
Yeah. I wish I could tell you all about it. But it didn't happen like that, and I don't have that good of an imagination.
My lapse in memory wasn't quite that pretty, or sudden.
Actually, my memory started failing at the ripe, old age of 32. It started fairly gradually. I'd be misplace my wallet every now and then. Or I'd forget an appointment, a telephone number, a deadline, or a birthday.
Later on I started forgetting names and faces of people. People I knew. There were times I had to actually stop and think of my daughter's name. That's one thing that should be reflexive.
Then the memory lapses started getting critical. I couldn't remember what I had eaten an hour before. Whether or not I shampooed my skull when I got out of the shower. I would have panic attacks because I couldn't remember if I had locked the door to the office (one night... actually morning, I drove back downtown just to be sure). Another time I had a near breakdown cause I couldn't find Rene Zellweger (alias for my daughter). I was supposed to pick her up at school and she wasn't there. I couldn't find her. I searched everywhere and couldn't find her. I ran into the school's office and put out an A.P.B. on my fifth grader! I was a trembling mass of goo, when her teacher walked up to me and said she "isn't she at Brownies today?". I immediately called over to the "Brownie HQ" and sure enough, she was there. I hugged her teacher for at least two minutes. There's nothing that'll mess with my head worse than the thought of something happening to my kid! I cried.
At first Leslie would joke about the problem. Then it became a nuisance for her. For God's sake the woman was living with a goldfish.
I would be in the middle of a sentence and "blank out" then start doing something else. Completely oblivious that I was even in a conversation. It was scary!
The cool thing about it though, the "silver-lining" if you will... I never had to watch reruns. Every time I watched a show on TV, I was seeing it for the first time.
Of course not being real doctors, but playing one on the Internet. Leslie and I had diagnosed early alzheimers, as well as brain cancer, not to mention three different types of encephalitis. I checked with my doctor and she said "not to worry, it happens as we age!" As we age?!?! I'm in my mid-thirties... I haven't AGED!!! Go to hell.
I even checked with a shrink. Just to be sure. Nope. There were no signs of alzheimers, no cancer, no viruses, nothing at all to indicate why I was losing my mind. It had truly become a quality of life issue.
One day Leslie came across an article where someone had similar memory problems. Come to find out this guy suffered from sleep apnea. Sleep apnea? I mean sure, Leslie would bitch at me from time to time because I would wake her from my snoring. That's really putting it kind of light, we were sleeping in seperate counties because of my snoring. But, I didn't think it was anything serious.
Out of curiosity, as well as being at my wit's end, I called a local sleep center, they recommended that I come in for a consultation and then a sleep study. The visit and the sleep study was covered by insurance so I figured I'd give it a try.
The sleep-study was an effort. The technicians wire you up to 20 - 30 electrodes. They tape wires all over your head, neck, chest, arms and legs. Then they give you a few commands via intercom to make sure you're "comin' in loud and clear." I felt like a rhesus monkey being readied for a space launch (or product testing). Anyway, after the wire job is finished you're asked to fall asleep. Oh did I mention that they watch your every move on an "see in the dark" closed circuit tv camera. I woke up a couple of times with my hand on "thunder". I was so embarrassed.
When the study was over I went home, then went to work like any other day. A week or so later I went back to the doctor's office. This is the part where where he goes over the details of the study.
I thought I had passed with flying colors.
WRONG!
On average I would quit breathing 55 times an hour! At times for more than a minute.
You do the math. Hell I could've slept with a tennis ball in my mouth and two marbles up my nose and gotten more air!
Diagnosis: SEVERE SLEEP APNEA!
Cure: CPAP! It's an air compressor for your nose.
Fast-Forward to today...
Now, when I crawl into bed I put on my "snorkel" and sleep like a dead yak. It only took about 19 seconds to get used to it.
"But gee Mark, is it sexy?" you ask.
Wha' hell yeah! Leslie loves it! Not only does she have the brilliantly talented, and conversational man that she fell in love with... but I don't run out of breath!
Now, I can remember all sorts of shit. I even remember watching The Banana Splits and the Land of the Lost. Damned those bug-eyed "Sleestaks"! Man, what'n (the old) SuperStation Channel 17 cool!
1/27/2004 09:51:50 PM
Hey New Hampshire, Vote for Me!
My story is down to the first round tourney at BlogMadness. give it a read, then vote your conscious. Better yet just vote for me!
1/26/2004 07:28:12 AM
FUK U OK... What the hell?
It's Sunday morning. Leslie, Rene Zellweger ('Rene Zellweger' is the alias I'm using for my 13 year old daughter. Catchy huh?) and I are reading the journalistic trophy known as the Macon Telegraph when I came across this ad in the coupons section.
I looked at "Rene", pointed to the title of the product and said "can you phonetically pronounce this one for me?" She looked at it, slowly read it, then blew frosted flakes, if you look close you'll see the frosted flake stain on the thumb.
What marketing savant came up with this? Then I imagined myself a fly on the wall during the creative brainstorming for this product:
Creative marketing guy #1: "Let's see, it's a vibrator that fit's on your finger. I know let's call it the 'FINGERATOR 2000'."
Creative marketing guy #2: "Nah, Fingerator 2000 sounds like a surgical device for an orthopod. We need a name that captures the essense of the product."
Creative marketing guy #3: "Yeah, something that says... "DIGITDIDDLER!"
Creative marketing guy #2: "Digitdiddler... Digitdi.... DIGITDIDDLER! I love it! That's perfect! Google the name and see if someone else is using it."
Creative marketing guy #3 walks over to the computer and types d-i-g-i-t-d-i-d-d-l-e-r into Google. Google responds: "Your search - 'digitdiddler' did not match any documents. Did you mean: George W. Bush?"
Creative marketing guy #3: Walks back to the trio and says "Nope can't use it. Too political."
Creative marketing guy #1: "Think, think, think... What one word says masturbatory appliance?"
Creative marketing guy #3: "How about 'Foo-Coff'?"
Creative marketing guy #2: "Nah, Sounds too much like a Japanese decongestant. But I do like the Oriental Massage tie in."
Creative marketing guy #3: "I know! What about Fah-Q?"
Creative marketing guy #2: "Nope, too arabic-ish."
Creative marketing guy #1: "Better yet how about 'FUKU', but we pronounce it 'foo-koo'!"
Creative marketing guy #2: "Foo-koo. FUKU. OK! I like it! But it needs a number."
I'm sure this creative braintrust is also responsible for the name "Hummer".
1/25/2004 12:44:53 PM
I Almost Forgot...
I had one brave taker!
Just one. Only one.
But by God she did a phenomenal job.
I'm talking about the Blog Interview of course. A couple of days ago I wrote about the Blog Interview and asked anyone who wanted to do it, to leave me a comment and I would forward five questions.
Jupiter's Hunter bravely heroically courageously stepped forward and accepted the challenge.
Thank you JH. Thank you for not leaving me hanging! You are a real American hero!
1/24/2004 12:50:11 AM
Tidying Up
I noticed that this old site was starting to look kinda shabby and tired. Frankly, I've been a little embarrassed to have you here with the place looking as bad as it has been. So I decided to straighten things up a bit. I hope you like all of the gussie-ing up.
1/23/2004 09:44:43 PM
Donate Life
Question number 2 that Charlie posed to me yesterday got me thinking about "my cause". I normally don't get behind many causes. I'm not one to protest, I mean sure I'll gripe and bitch about alot of things but I'm not a marcher or a demonstrator kind of guy. I would've sucked as a hippie back in the sixties. If I were at Kent State when the troops started breaking out the artillery you would have seen nothing but asshole and elbows as I ran like hell away from the mayhem.
Anyway, this cause is so simple and it makes a buttload of sense. Donate Life.
Donate Life's reason for being is organ donation. After seeing what they did for a friend of mine (who was a kidney recipient) I can tell you the Coalition on Donation is a phenomenal organization.
If you want to get involved (and I really hope you do) I've made a small graphic along with the accompanying code you can use to put a link on your site to help spread the word. Of course there is NO COST associated with this and hopefully we'll be able to help somebody.
Here's the code:
<![CDATA[<a href="http://www.shareyourlife.org/" target="_blank">]]><![CDATA[<img src="http://www.r80o.com/images/donate.gif" alt="Donate Life!" width="76" height="76" border="1"></a>]]>
Just copy the code and paste it into your template. Or if you prefer you can copy the graphic, save it to your server and link it to http://www.shareyourlife.org/
Thanks in advance.
Mark
1/22/2004 06:05:44 PM
The Interview
I was reading Charlie's blog today. He was going on about one of the latest memes (did I say that right?) going around in the blogosphere. The meme I'm talking about is the "Blog Interview". The Blog Interview is supposed to help us get to know each other better, and find a few other bloggers that we may not find otherwise.
Here are the basics:
1 - Leave a comment below, saying you want to be interviewed.
2 - I will respond; I'll ask you five questions.
3 - You'll update your journal with my five questions, and your five answers.
4 - You'll include this explanation.
5 - You'll ask other people five questions when they want to be interviewed.
Of course I thought the questions would be simple like: "what's your dog's name?", "What's your favorite color?" or "What biblical name did your mother call you when she beat you senseless?" But my God, Charlie really put some thought into this quiz.
Ok, let's give it a whirl...
1) Tomorrow morning, you're going to wake up in a part
of the world where no one speaks English (or any other
languages you happen to know). In what part of the
world would you want to be, and what will you do upon
awakening there?
Answer:
This one's easy. Miami.
Just kidding.
Actually Luxembourg, how's that for a right field answer? Really though Luxembourg. I hear it's beautiful, politically neutral (read peaceful), mild winters and cool summers. Not to mention, their leader/top dog/chief of state's name... Grand Duke JEAN! Jean. Just Jean. Nothing pompous, nothing imperial... Just Jean. That's the kind of name you could buddy up with. An overall approachable type... "Hey Jean, I'll buy you a beer if you let me try on the crown."
What I would do the first morning? Talk very little. Explore very lot. I'd get a rental car and road load.
2) You have the power to instantly change the opinion
of every person in the world on one, and only one,
topic. You can't be selective about who it affects --
if 80% of people hate something now, then the 20% who
love it will suddenly hate it tomorrow. What topic do
you choose, and why?
Answer:
Organ donation.
Actually organ donation is "my cause", if I had a "my cause".
This is something that some people don't like to consider. Then there are religions/dogmas that are opposed to it.
To me it's a complete no-brainer! I'd like to make it crystal clear to at least 80% of the world. There's no reason for anyone to wait on any sort of donor list.
Please click "Donate Life" for more information. Please.
3) You're sent to prison for life for a crime you
didn't commit. (Well, of *course* you're innocent,
silly!) There's an escape route in the prison, but
only a 10% chance you'll be successful, and a 90%
chance you'll be caught. You can try again and again
if you like, but if you're caught five times, you'll
be executed. What do you do? (And would it change your
mind if they executed you after three failed attempts?
How about seven?)
Answer:
I'm not quite sure how statistically the math would work out, but I would definitely have time to work everything out on paper over the years I was in the pen. The first attempt would be no gamble. It'd be my "get out of jail free card", but I wouldn't waste it. I would take the time to size up the situation and find an advantage. I could analyze things within the first couple of years and increase my chances. Then on my first attempt I would be as aware of everything I could in order to learn from my mistakes if I got caught on the first go around.
4) You can magically send one item _currently_ in your
house through time and space to any person who's ever
lived, and deliver the item to them at any point in
their lifetime. What do you send, to whom, when, and
why?
Answer:
What to send: A condom
Who to send it to: George Bush Sr.
When: Minutes before he unleashed millions of little Georgies.
Why: Duh.
5) Way, way in the future, you die. As a ghost, you're
able to approach one person and speak a single word to
them. That person will know the message is from you,
and understand it, but you'll be unable to communicate
any further with them, or anyone else. Who do you
speak to, and what do you say?
Answer:
Leslie.
"Continue."
There you have my interview.
Remember, if you want me to question you follow these simple rules:
1 - Leave a comment below, saying you want to be interviewed.
2 - I will respond; I'll ask you five unique questions.
3 - You'll update your journal with my five questions, and your five answers.
4 - You'll include this explanation.
5 - You'll ask other people five questions when they want to be interviewed.
1/21/2004 07:42:11 PM
What a Great Idea!
1/21/2004 06:16:16 PM
Alright, you're scaring me now...
Somebody googled "inbred mountain men of west virginia" and my site came up. I don't know why it came up. I don't think have anything about inbreeding here at R80o, much less anything about West Virginia, but I did see "Wrong Turn" last night. Now Wrong Turn has "inbred mountain men of west virginia" and I must say I don't think the movie gave the "inbred mountain men of west virginia" a fair and balanced representation of who they really are. Let's put it this way.... All "inbred mountain men of west virginia" are not (I repeat are NOT) axe wielding, homicidal, cannibalistic maniacs.
I'm not to sure about the "inbred mountain men of north georgia" though.
I'll have to get back to you on that one.
1/21/2004 04:23:26 PM
Fun with a fish-eye lens
Here's my world
In all of it's 180° glory.
1/18/2004 07:23:11 PM
This should be on a shirt!
I was out with the camera recently and came across this image:
I love this image. You can almost smell Mr. Restroom Icon's fear. Not to mention, a flying dog!
How cool is that?!?!
1/18/2004 05:01:33 PM
If only we had snow.
I'm watching the Pat's v. Colts game right now.
The weather looks brutal.
Cold and snow.
Here, I'm in shorts.
I'm not bragging. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
'Cause in a few more months I'll be paying for these warm winter days, with 101 degrees and 100% humidity and heat warnings way deep into the red zone. It'll be so hot that it will hurt to take a deep breathe.
God, I hate Summer.
1/18/2004 04:49:45 PM
Things you generally won't hear a southern guy say...
I'm sitting at the table today eating a microwaved, chicken cordon blue from Sam's and watching Reno 911. Leslie walks in, sits down at the table beside me, takes my hand, looks me straight in the eye and asks:
Leslie: "Are you having an affair?"
Me: looking around like she's talking to the fridge "um.... huh?"
Leslie: "I've read that one of the warning signs that a guy is having an affair is that he starts paying closer attention to his grooming habits. I've noticed that you've been really cleaning up... Are you having an affair?"
Me: "Uh, no."
Leslie: "But you've got to admit you've really been paying alot of attention to your face, complexion and stuff."
Me: "I've been watching 'Queer Eye' a lot."
_______________________________________________________
Here's another:
Leslie and I were watching The Daily Show the other night. Jon Stewart was interviewing Carol Moseley Braun.
Me: talking about CM Braun "I like her. I really like her. I'd like to see her go all the way."
Les: "To bad she bailed out of the race."
Me: "She bailed? What a shame, I would've totally voted for her."
________________________________________________________
And another:
Me: "Me'Shell Ndegeocello rocks! Where has she been all my life?"
1/18/2004 02:19:12 PM
Puttin' the 80 in R80o
I've recently joined a music service.
I know it's ridiculous to pay $10 a month when I've got a radio, a butt-load of cds, and the Internet, but the local stations are all pretty poor, and I've burnt holes into my cds from playing them so much. As far as downloading and ripping MP3s, well the demonic incarnation named RIAA has scared the crap out of me. I've got a wife, a house, and a kid and frankly it doesn't make sense for me to financially jeopardize any of that just so I can get the latest from Crystal Method (although, if you like Crystal Method their latest... the Legion of Boom kicks sacred-mortal ass! It might just be worth the wife, and the house!).
Anyway, back to the music service, so far it's been money pretty well spent. I logged onto the service Sunday and decided to build a "best of the 80's" playlist. As I was building the list I started remembering who I was back then. What my expectations were, what I was doing, (who I was doing), and who I thought then I would be now. Humor me. I just got my long-term memory back three-quarters of a year go and it's rampant (I'll tell you about that in a later post).
Back then (as well as now) I had a wacked/eclectic taste in music. It was a noxious mix of New wave (Flock of Seagulls, Talking Heads, Joe Jackson, Oingo Boingo), Heavy Metal (AC-DC, Billy Squier, Boston, Van Halen), Pop (The Outfield, QuarterFlash, The Police, Supertramp), and Big Band/Jazz (Glen Miller, Count Basie, Ella Fitzgerald, Charlie "Bird" Parker, Manhattan Transfer). The reason for the Big Band genre was that I was the weekend disc-jockey for one of the local AM/FM radio stations and I wound up falling in love with the stuff. The AM side of the station played big band and jazz, while the FM side was hardcore southern rock (Molly Hatchet, .38 Special, Lynyrd Skynyrd and the likes). Frankly I never really cared much for Southern Rock. As you can well imagine in Georgia it was too pervasive, still is. I'll be happy man if I go the rest of my life without hearing Freebird ever again. Put down your BIC lighter!
Then: I drove a really old beat up, 1973 Toyota Celica. I called it "skate". It was death on wheels. I paid for it though and occasionally I even liked it. Now: I still drive. Not too far off the base there. It's an Xterra instead of a Celica, but it's still an import.
Then: I ALWAYS had a camera around my shoulder. I shot for the annual staff and the school paper. Now: I still shoot although not as much as I want, and now when I shoot it's more for work rather than love of taking pictures.
Then: I wasn't a good student. I passed everything with no problem, but I didn't study... I didn't give a crap. School bored me beyond physical comprehension. Now: I still would make a shitty student, but I do ok when I teach... Odd.
Then: I was extremely creative, but without much of an outlet other than photography. I was led to believe you couldn't make a living out creativity. I didn't find out until I was in my twentys that that was bullshat. Now: Making a living doing what I love.
Then: I usually wore thin ties with jeans and a sport coat. Or jeans and a T. Or just jeans. Now: Still do, sans the thin tie of course.
Then: I always thought I was going to be Carl Corporate. HAH! Let me underscore that HAH, with yet a more sinister and bawdy HHHHAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! I tried the corporate thing and I found myself (Now:) much better suited for small business.
Then: I knew nothing about advertising, nor did I crack a book to prepare for, but won 1st place in state in the DECA (it was a club) Career Competition and went to nationals. Now: Still can't say I know all that much about advertising, but I got the trophies.
Then: I was always "chasing skirt". Actually I would say as a teenager, sex was my primary only motivation. I was a just a gland in jeans and high tops! Now: Married, go figure... Damn, I've got a teenager now! *Note to self: Develop an imposing Death-Dad persona in order to discourage anyone from asking my daughter out on a date. Also, convince daughter that eunichs and gay guys are great alternatives to "real" boyfriends.
Then: I weighed in at a buck 50 (150 lbs.). I did everything I could to try and gain weight, even drinking a daily milkslurry/stew/shake made of Bryers vanilla ice cream, peanut butter, bananas, raw eggs, chocolate syrup, and cookies. Now: I tip the scales around 205 (down from a high this past November of 220 lbs). Another change is I cook. I rule the kitchen! I'll prove it, next time you're in town let me know, I'll fix you dinner.
Then: I knew I would leave my hometown as soon as I graduated. Now: Still here. By choice... My wife's choice.
Then: I had curly locks of hair! Now: I have a curly locks of face.
Then: I knew I would be a dad, just a plain old dad. Now: I consider myself a phenom in the dadness that I bring to this house. Although I'm sure the kid would tell you different. My highest achievement in life was teaching my daughter how to pick out and match her clothes and how to do her hair. On second thought, my highest achievement in life is making my daughter laugh so hard she throws up.
Then: I wasn't part of any particular crowd. I wasn't a jock. I wasn't a stoner. I wasn't geek. I wasn't nerd. I wasn't a "joiner". I just did my own thing. I had friends across all of the cliche's. Now: I still yang when everyone else yins. I don't "keep up with the Joneses.", but I like to think that I'm still open to all types of people and relationships.
Then: I considered myself a "young republican". Now: I laugh giggle at that thought.
I could go on, as a matter of fact each of these then v. now topics could be a post unto themselves. All in all I'm pretty happy with the way things turned out. Besides how much more "Id" can I spew before I really start working your nerves?
I'll finish up with this final then: and now:
Then and Now
1/13/2004 10:58:05 PM
It's Here!
Duh-ruhm roll please....
Announcing the R80o Smeg Shoppe, The Swag Lounge !
Thanks Charlie for the name.
1/11/2004 12:30:22 AM
In support of Tequila Mockingbird and her plight.
No Mockingbirds, lambs, or copyrights were harmed in this production.
All copyrighted material belong to their respective owners, this is strictly a parody!
1/9/2004 08:06:55 PM
I need your opinion.
Is "blog swag" tacky?
Creating swag (For those of you who aren't sure what swag is, it's hats, tshirts, coffee mugs, keychains, etc. with a logo on it... You know ad/brand specialties.) is one of the duties I do 9 to 5 anyway.
Stupid me, I walked into a client's office Tuesday with a handful of tshirts and ballcaps with my company's logo on it and proudly announced that "I brought you some smeg!" Through some freudian slip I got the term "swag" and the term "smeg" mixed up. Go figure.
Anyway, I just wondered would it be overly narcissitic/offensive to add R80o items here for your browsing pleasure? I really would appreciate your comment or email.
1/8/2004 04:28:25 PM
Face Saved. Hah!
Hey.
I'm sorry I haven't been around much lately. I normally write late at night and recently I've been turning in early. Not to mention, I've really been having a hard time coming up with anything that I felt that was blogworthy. Basically I've been stuck in a really boring documentary. Not much to write home about that's for sure.
Anyway, I was talking to my wife tonight about R80o. I asked her "of all the time you've known me what sticks out as the funniest thing that you can remember?" After she got through choking on the shrimp fried rice she said "TJ MAXX, you've got to go with the TJ MAXX Potty Caper!"
Let me be the first to say (as if I really need to), R80o is definitely not high-brow literature. Following suit this post is crude. Funny, but crude. Now with that in mind, if you're still reading... well, you're my kind of person!
Here goes:
TJ MAXX POTTY CAPER
It was August, a hot as hell, humid, Georgia summer afternoon. We ("we" being my wife, my daughter and myself) had just gotten out of church and decided to go shopping for my sister's birthday gift. We went to the mall shopped up and down with no luck. My wife suggested that we try out TJ MAXX. We hopped in the car and drove over to said MAXX store. We were there browsing for 30 to 45 minutes when all of a sudden I had ~a bit of a tummy ache~. I say "tummy ache" in sarcastic quotes, the "tummy ache" felt more like labor pains. Anyway I ignored the pain at first. Then another stomach cramp hit. After the cramp passed I started scoping the store for a restroom... just in case. Then another cramp, I said to Leslie, "I'll be back in a bit." and I went off to ask a store clerk where the restrooms were. The only clerk I could find was way up at the front of the store at the register. I saw her and casually made my way up to her...
ME: "Pardon me. Where are your restrooms?"
Clerk: The clerk never looked up, she waved off to her right and said "THERE." and pointed to the back, right corner of the store.
ME: "Thank you."
Then I proceed off to the back, right corner as she had directed. When I got back there there were three doors. No signs, no pointers, no icons, nothing. Just three doors.
I walk into the first door. Nope. Storeroom. Try again.
I walk into the second door. Nah-uh. Manager's office. Next door.
By this time, I'm in trouble.
Finally, the third door, it has to be relief.
I crash through the third door... it's a hallway. At the end of the hall I see the universal man and woman icons for restroom. I cautiously make my way down the hall... who am I kidding... I'm sprinting, teary-eyed, full pace down the hall with my hand over my ass 'cause I'm crowning for God's sake. The snicker's knocking on cotton! I GOTTA GO NOW!!!
I finally get to the men's restroom.
Locked.
I turn around and try the women's restroom (This is not a moment to be worried about pride).
Locked!
I DIDN'T ASK THE SALES WENCH FOR A FREAKIN' KEY!!!! I DIDN'T KNOW I NEEDED A KEY!!!!
Thanks to TJ MAXX's crack security team I'm about to shit myself.
I'm shouting prayers to God and all of his possible incarnations at this point. When I notice a side corridor a few feet back up the hall.
I run to the corridor. I see a back entrance to the store, complete with the alarm that'll go off if I choose to go that route and I see a closet. A broom closet to be exact. I figure I'll take the back door, buzzer and all if the broom closet is locked. But first I've got to try the closet.
I push shove tackle the closet door.
Opens up. Just as pretty as you please.
You never know true humility until you've done number 2 while perched precariously on a tall trash can in a hot broom closet of a mid-scaled retail department store in August in Georgia. My prayers to God and all of his possible incarnations were answered though, not only was the closet unlocked, but there was a whole case of toilet paper in there with me. As Martha would say... "It's a Good Thing".
After all of the drama, I tidy up and casually stroll out to my wife who is in the cookware section of the store. She turns and looks at me and her jaw drops. She studders a bit and ask me what's wrong. I'm white as a ghost, I'm drenched in sweat, my hair is a mess, my shirt's untucked, my pants are wrinkled. I tell her that "I don't feel well. I'll wait for you in the car." and then I casually stride past her without even giving her time to acknowledge my comment.
I'm relaxed in the thought that I just went through a personal disaster of biblical proportions and nobody's the wiser. Face saved.
Then she blurts out...."IS THAT MUD ON YOUR SHIRTTAIL?"
Thanks Les.
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I have just given you something I swore I would never write about. I just gave you the most embarrassing moment of my life.
On a side note: Great Sale! I read in the paper the other day that that TJ MAXX store is closing it's doors and they are having a butt-kicking going out of business sale. The "Caper" happened over eleven years ago and I could face lions, tigers and bears before I could face going back into that store.
1/6/2004 09:50:58 PM
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