Comedy: November 09, 2010 Issue [#4061] |
Comedy
This week: Seam's Odd, It Seems! Edited by: Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥ More Newsletters By This Editor
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Have you ever wondered if there were people out there who were a bit stranger than yourself? We all understand our own little quirks and foibles, that's a given. Do we really want to find those out there who are even odder than ourselves? Heck yes! Anything that makes me feel more normal is okay in my book. Let's take a look ...
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Hello folks! Let the games begin! The holiday shopping season has arrived. Get ready for the blue light special! Luckily, I managed to snatch-up some Halloween decorations as they were being cornered into a smaller section of the store aisles to make room for Christmas collectibles in early October. It's the time of year I dub, Hallothanksmas.
Recently, WL, Web-Son and I were on a busy freeway, heading to my mother's for a visit when we heard a strange noise coming from the left rear wheel of the car. That was followed by a dragging-thumping feeling that told us we were having tire/brake issues. We pulled off the next exit and thankfully found a garage that works on Volvos. It seems our wheel was hanging by a thread because the wheel bearing was going -- fast! We were told that the wheel wouldn't have lasted two more miles. Phewww! That was a close call! WW has lots of those.
The mechanics called for a part and asked if we would like a ride to the local Dunkin' Donuts, to wait out the repair. We jumped on the chance to grab some more coffee and stay in a place that didn't smell like sweat and fuel.
Ah, yes, the familiar donut shop/breakfast eatery/lunch can be good here, too, you just pick something and eat it, kind of place. It also had the teller-machine right outside the main doors for the convenience of the Route 2, break-down drop-ins.
I got some quick cash and sent the two guys content in choosing their sweet tooth delights. I stayed with my trusted Poland Springs, spring water. I thought sitting there for an hour and a half would be boring, especially since I don't fancy donuts, or fatty filled sandwiches. Even the "lite" menu had stuff that would cross-out the whole idea of a light meal. Nope, I was sticking with my water.
The guys enjoyed their choices while I studied the local patrons. I watched busy construction workers, come and go, followed by business-type people who travel in groups, to the busy mom coming in, ordering and going out with a little bag in her hands. Most of them looked pretty normal -- boring. As time wore on, I noticed a different species of "DD" customers.
A lady in sweats arrived, placed and order and then someone from the kitchen called out to her, "One egg-white sandwich, with melted cheese." Okay, I understand how a person opts for egg-white sandwiches or omelets. They are usually dieting and trying to avoid extra fat. It was the melted cheese part that I didn't get. I mean, lady, just get the whole egg 'cause that cheese just brought the calories much higher than the little yolk! I guess the yolk's on me.
This same woman couldn't just grab her cheesy, yolkless lunch and leave. No! She had to ask the lady behind the counter if she could have a taste of a particular ice cream that was glass-encased under her nose.
Okay, this woman cannot be serious about losing that chunky belly if she's tasting ice cream. I figured, give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was testing the quality and would buy a quart to bring home to her family.
However, she didn't stop with the first toss-away testing spoon full of ice cream. She kept pointing to different bins and asking for a taste. Before she left, I counted enough spoonfuls to equal a half-cup of ice cream. Folks, this woman had free dessert at this establishment. She never actually bought any of the ice cream, plus, she still had that wonderful " cheesy, egg white de-lite sandwich to eat on her way home. Crazy like a fox, that one!
A group of oddsters, soon took their place at the order counter. There was an elderly woman, an Indian man, a skinny lady and a hefty one who reminded me of the sweet, departed, Mama Cass. It was interesting watching what they ordered. They made the viewing much easier by sitting at the table across from us.
The skinny lady had a large coffee, the Indian man had some Chai tea and the elderly patron had a bagel and coffee.
The last one to sit down was "Mama Cass." Her order took the longest to receive. It was a long, bread roll-up, filled with cheese. As she placed herself into the chair, she swung her long black skirt around the seat. My eye noticed something white in its peripheral vision area. Now, I don't like to stare, but I knew she was wearing dark colors from neck to ankle from watching her in the order line. Where would white fit in? I took a quick, nonchalant look downward at the bottom of her seat toward her feet and noticed a white tag. It was the manufacturer's tag that was sewn into the inside seam. INSIDE, folks! The woman was wearing her skirt inside-out!
I was conflicted, folks. I mean, do I gently tap her on the shoulder and point downward at the label? Perhaps I should get the attention of one of her lunch-mates, the elderly lady would be best because old people fear no one's opinion. When they have something to say they just blurt it right out there. Appropriateness of the timing or forum doesn't matter. If they are bothered by something they are going to tell anyone and everyone within earshot.
I thought about how embarrassing that could be to "Mama," so I decided to just let it go. She could probably carry it off for the rest of the day and never realize her fashion faux pas. That's always a good thing. Ignorance is indeed bliss.
I stopped focusing on the group 'cause I was getting kind of obvious. I think they noticed when I started leaning off my seat and more in their direction. They didn't fall for the, "I'm just texting somebody and am not really paying attention to your conversation about customs in India," ploy of mine. I think the fact that the phone camera was pointed in the direction of that pesky white tag and not closer enough to be actually texting that they realized they were the objects of my interest.
You don't have to knock me over the head with a hard bagel to get my attention. I got the hint and turned toward the guys at my table. I didn't even notice "Mama Cass-a-like" get up from the table. Actually the next time I turned in that direction, the whole table was empty.
A few moments went by and I saw the object of my fascination, no, strike that --my obsession, coming from the direction of the ladies room. Did she? I had to find out! I got off my seat and walked toward her direction pretending to gaze at the ice cream cakes in the glass freezer and looked down at her skirt for the white object that I was fixated on for the past forty-five minutes. Gone! Yes, she realized the error of her dressing habits when she got to the ladies room.
I thought that would have made me feel a little joyful for her. However, I really wanted her to spend the rest of the day wondering why everyone was gazing at her. I wanted to feel more normal than she. It was all about me, folks!
I realized that my nosy behavior of, well let's face it, voyeurism, made me so much odder than she. I ended up being the weird patron of that establishment that day. I mean, come on -- we all make mistakes. Sometimes after a restroom visit, the back of the skirt gets stuck in the pantyhose and you walk across a busy intersection holding a couple coffees-to-go and wonder why the traffic comes to a complete halt, allowing you to freely pass to the other side of the street. This never happened to me, of course, -- but I could just imagine how embarrassing it would be!
Happy Thanksgiving!
Feed someone you love today a little bit of humor.
Until next time -- laugh hard, laugh often!
Ta,
WW |
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Last month, I made light of dying and finding a final resting place. "Comedy Newsletter (October 13, 2010)" Folks, if I can find humor in a situation that involves my house burning, why should death be taboo for me? C'mon, you know me better than that. Also, it was Halloween month, right? Well, only one, objective reader plus WL, found the comic relief in that dark humor ... Death, go figure -- c'est la vie!
LJPC - the tortoise
Hi WW! Fabulously funny NL this week. I believe that everything can be funny and a bit of black humor never hurt anyone. There should be no topic off limits and you went pretty far out there with your hysterical NL about death. I really look forward to your NLs. You always make me laugh - and isn't life better when you laugh?
-- Laura
Thank you, Laura. It appears that only you and Weblock found the humor in death.
drjim
WW! Now that we are picking our way the 'ash heap of history', it is but at the same time, we pay due reverence to wonderful people like Web-Mom who give us the zany repartees par excellence. WW, this NL has it all! Few can take on Dying in the manner in which you, helping us cast aside fear galore ... and in handling it with such aplomb, we are reminded of the words of St. Paul who demanded an explanation from the Grim Reaper no less with the following:"O Death, where is thy sting?" For those of us who really don't recall the fine art of throwing an Irish wake, your idea of Ash Packs - to be distributed inside the mouthpiece of a party pooper, has all the accouterments of ... well ... a masterpiece. "Chips - like ashes- fall where they must, but be certain as Auld Lang Syne is sung - that a beloved's Muse has bit the dust".
KEEP WRITING WW!
Thanks, WL, but I still don't want to get stuck with your feet for eternity. We need to go back to the drawing board on this one.
See you next month, folks!
WW
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