It was made with carbonated water, pure cane sugar (which is just processed sugar... the healthiest kind), and artificial & natural extracts and flavors. It also had citric acid and caramel color. Not caramel, but caramel color. And, by the way, how do you even pronounce caramel? With two syllables or three?
I've been corrected both ways.
Is it "car-a-mel" or "car-mel"? I always thought Carmel was the town where Clint Eastwood was mayor. At any rate, before this turns into a story about me complaining about to-may-toes or to-mah-toes, let me get to my main point...
I was at Sam's yesterday. My wife I were getting away with only a few items this time around, since my Dad wasn't with us to toss additional unwanted items into the basket. Unfortunately, however, it wasn't few enough.
We walked up to one of those do-it-yourself check-outs, and the hourly employee in charge told us, "Sorry, but it's only for ten items or less."
I looked at her, and then I looked at the self-serve check-outs. There were four of them, and they were all empty. I looked at my cart. We only had about twenty items or so. If we were at Wal-Mart we could have slipped by the check-out police... but we weren't at Wal-Mart.
So we moseyed on over to the other end of the check-outs where we saw a long line of people standing at the only check-out open. But not really. There was another check-out open right next to the long line, and that one only had one person in it. So that's the one I started heading for.
"That one only takes flat-beds, sweetie," my wife told me.
I took a closer look and discovered my eagle-eyed wife was right. The one customer there had a flatbed, and the sign above the register said "Flatbeds Only."
So, grumbling, I got to the tail-end of the long line. Meanwhile, the four self-serve check-outs were still empty and the lone customer at the Flatbed register was done, so the checker was just standing there all by himself poking his nose.
I'm not saying my line didn't go fast, because it did, but if there are no customers at those other open lanes, then why couldn't they have siphoned off some of the irritated customers (mainly me) from the line I was standing in?
I told all this to my buddy Maloney when I called him later that day.
"You think you've got problems?" he told me. There's no conversation Maloney can't turn into a conversation about himself. "My mother-in-law..."
Back when the Mega Million lotto jackpot was 400 million dollars, his mother-in-law bought a ticket. She'll go out to the Indian Casino and blow her social security check gambling, but she only buys one ticket for the lotto because, I guess, any more than that would be a waste of cash. She refuses to buy any tickets for the Power Ball, because the price went up to two bucks. Anyway...
The Saturday morning after she buys her ticket, Maloney's sitting at the table eating breakfast. She comes over to him and with a poop-eating grin shows him her ticket.
"If I win," she tells him, "I'll pay off your house."
"That's nice," he politely tells her, but in the back of his mind he's thinking, Yeah, and what are you going to do with the three hundred ninety-nine million eight hundred thousand dollars that are left?
Sadly, Maloney, unlike me, hasn't retired yet. He gets up every morning, Monday through Friday, at 3:30am to be at his job by 4:25am.
Man, that's early. While he's busy getting ready for work, I'm busy waking up my wife with my snoring. Anyway...
On one particular morning, Maloney gets up, gets dressed, and just as he's about to go to the bathroom to brush his teeth and take care of other bodily functions, he hears the bathroom door close. It was his mother-in-law. She had woken up and beaten him to the bathroom. And she was taking a long time. I mean, a looong time, if you get my drift.
Maloney's wife wanted a new bathroom for the Master Bedroom and Maloney made the mistake of agreeing and doing the work himself to save money. So, as of right now, they're down to one bathroom for the whole family.
Finally, she was done, and Maloney was running late, so he didn't have the time to let the bathroom air out. So he held his breath as best he could and went in.
"All I could smell was that air freshener spray," he told me. "Whenever she goes to the bathroom, she sprays the heck out of it, so It smells like roses and..."
"Can we talk about me now?" I asked him.
But he was already complaining about something else.
Raising My Father
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jimduchene.BlogSpot.com Fifty Shades of Funny
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