Within grabbing distance of the checkout at Phillips, there is a display of “Studded Lubricated Condoms.” Now, I’m no expert in this field, but…studded?! I craned my neck at the display, and the brand name is “Rough Riders.” Indeed. But wouldn’t the lubrication kind of…interfere with the effect of the studding…OK, enough speculation.
Where was I? Oh, yeah. Right beside said display, there was a display of cheap bracelets. You know, the whole idea of a convenience store is to grab stuff you need on short notice. Who goes out and then thinks, Oh, I meant to put on a bracelet today, but I forgot! Better pick one up at the gas station! I just realized, I might actually be their target market. Because if I forget any item of the day’s planned outfit (luckily, it hasn’t been pants yet, but I’ve come close, on days when I already had long underwear on), it will bother me the rest of the day. I then have to make up for it by wearing that outfit *with* the desired item at my earliest convenience (a/k/a after I’ve done that week’s laundry). What It’s Like In My Head, Chapter 145…I KNOW there’s medication for that, STOP NAGGING! Anyway, what I’m getting at (at long last) is that I’m actually immune to their lapidary brandishments.
CRISIS IN PROGRESS: THE SOURCE OF ALL OUR PROBLEMS
The other day at McDonald’s (the start of so many stories, isn’t it?), there was a young man and his baby. The gentleman was an exemplary father–attentive, affectionate–but then he handed the child (less than one year old, by my uneducated estimation) his smartphone. The guy in the next booth said, “Getting him started early, are you?” The father said, “Oh, he knows a lot already. He knows how to get out of the app he’s in….I was surprised how many apps for babies this thing has.” Colleagues, would I have been out of line to say, “Does he know how to call 911? Because babies call 911 on those things all the time.” (Yeah, as if you’d start any conversation with a total stranger, they snicker.) One of my co-workers reported that, upon callback and being told the baby dialed 911, the mother yelled, “ARE YOU TELLING ME HOW TO RAISE MY CHILD?” Yes, in this one limited sense, we are.
To Whom It May Concern:
Your ridealong (you mean some people actually enjoy that?) did an excellent Nick impersonation. For one thing, the statement “I crave constant attention” makes it easy to believe that one is dealing with the genuine article. But I suspected subterfuge early on, just because it’s the sort of thing you would do. You are a faithless beast. May you have a month of late runs.