...cold drink in hand

Part II of our vacation...

We hit Ft. Lauderdale beach at night for some drinks on the beach. While driving down the avenue before dark I remarked how it was too bad we would not be seeing a sunset. Kristy remarked something to the effect that it was too cloudy to see the sunset, knowing full well of course that the sun sets in the west and we were on the east coast, but it was too late. Kristy's gaffe was cemented. "Why is it we can't see a sunset on the east coast again Kristy?"

As we sat enjoying a cool breeze and some drinks, I mentioned the buoy at the edge of the swimming area was a nice touch. Chris corrected me and let me know that it was not a buoy, but a diving flag marking the spot where a diver was under the waves. I looked again and let him know I sure thought it looked like a buoy, but he insisted and I deferred to him given his status as a local.

The next day we hit Ft. Lauderdale beach for some fun in the sun. We took the water taxi on the intercoastal waterway and got off at Fat Tuesdays. The trip down the intercoastal was surreal. There were houses that were just redicerous. Some in the $100 million range. Our tour guide ticked off the listing prices and history of the area, not to mention the litany of famous people who owned them. Then there were the yahcts. Don't even get me started! One was a $14 mil ship given to a daughter as her 16th birthday present. We noticed a “for sale” sign on it, and just up the way was her new $30 mil beast. Seems the first was just not big enough. Chris at this point was actually starting to get mad. He kept saying, "look at that freaking house", only he didn't say "Freakin" (sorry, this is a family show).

So there we sat on the deck of Fat Tuesdays, overlooking A1A and counting the number of $70k and up cars that drove by. As Brandie glanced out over the water, guess what she saw? The diving flag turned out to be a buoy! We had some fun at Chris's expense for a while on this one! Gaffe number 2 for Chris...

After losing count of the expensive cars because there were too many to keep track of (seriously, I think Ft. Lauderdale has the largest amount of high priced cars per capita in the world), we headed down the beach to the world famous Elbow Room. I headed down to the beach and stuck my toes in the ocean. Can you believe I was the only one from our group to do that?

We had dinner at a couple of great restaurants, one was an Italian place called Buchas. This place was awesome! They took us through the kitchen on our way to our table (there was a table right in the kitchen as well, just in case you wanted to watch them make your dinner). The portions were massive. They had a "regular" and a "large" and it tells you right on the menu that regular feeds two and large feeds four. They were not kidding. I kept calling the place Bohica's which is an acronym for Bend Over Here It Comes Again.

The rest of the week was filled with relaxation by the pool, more fantastic meals at great restaurants and good times with good friends. Sadly, all good things must come to an end, so we boarded our plane and headed for Michigan. We were sad to leave, but looking forward to getting home to see our precious baby girl.

So, while I think that Ft. Lauderdale is the strip mall capital of the world, and the pace of life is a little faster than I would like, they make a strong case for being one of my favorite places in the world. Not quite ready to leave my beloved four seasons behind just yet, but you never know what the future holds.

Oh, and I bet I committed a verbal gaffe at some point, but that is the power of being the blogger, I don't have to remember what I did wrong! Also, Chris who normally does not get caught with many gaffes committed a record three whoppers this week. The crown jewel came when I was explaining what happens when I drink too much caffeine, I get heart palpitations. To which Chris responded, "You have a virgin baby circulatory system!" What? To be fair, he meant it to have a pause between virgin and baby, clearly not intending to link virginity to babies, but that did not stop us from ripping him for this one. So, virgins have week hearts huh?

Thanks so much Chris and Brandie for having us, and for the grandparents who split time taking care of our kids as well as the siblings who looked after pets. We had a blast, and hope to be back again soon!

Toes in the sand...

A couple weeks ago my wife and I had the privilege of visiting South Florida, and seeing some good friends of ours. Chris and Brandie are renting a nice little bungalow just outside of Ft. Lauderdale while they get re-acclimated to the area and look for a place to call their own.

These are our good friends who had moved to West Michigan for three years to be with his family and opened two franchise sandwich shops. Things did not work out, and they were sort of left holding the bag, so they moved back to where they belonged, close to family and out of the cold (lucky for us we get to visit!).

Here is part I of our week long visit:

It was so good to catch up with our friends and see a part of the state we had never been to, south and east. Man was it beautiful! The trip started with Brandie giving us a tour of the famous highway A1A, A.K.A. Beach Front Avenue (this is a line in one of Kristy's favorite rap songs from Vanilla Ice called "Ice Ice Baby"--That block was dead Yo, so I continued to a1a beachfront ave. We sang that the rest of the week).

We almost died twice in traffic, but were saved by Brandies expert South FL driving skills. People are crazy down there! We also noticed that there were no parking spots to be had, so we hit up one of Chris's favorite spots called Ricky's and had some wings and a cold beverage.

That night we got to see the restaurant that Chris manages called Anthony's Coal Fire Pizza. I highly recommend it! Great wings and pizza with a high class atmosphere at a budget friendly price.
http://www.anthonyscoalfiredpizza.com/
After he got home we went to a bar called Big Dawgs where the girls had something that resembled nachos...blech.

The next day we were up early and off to see the Keys. Man what a beautiful place. The ride down was long, but entertaining as we started in with our usual catching of each other in verbal gaffes (the most infamous and perhaps the one that started our obsession with teasing each other for gaffes was the first one ever two years ago. It was Brandie and it involved Bill Parcels, but it is not fit to print here). Chris was the first one caught. As he excitedly chronicled the history of the Key's he began to tell us how at least 50 presidents had visited. There was a moment of silence, then Kristy nailed him, "Uh, Chris, isn't Obama the 44th president?" The rest of the trip was filled with, "This is nice, and I’ll bet all 50 presidents enjoyed it!"

The houses were amazing, the atmosphere laid back, the water the most gorgeous colors of blues and greens I have ever seen (that includes Cancun, Jamaica, North Carolina and other parts of Florida). Our first stop was at Kokomo, as the Beach Boys would tell you, "In the Florida Keys, there's a place called Kokomo. That's where we wanna go, to get away from it all."

It was "Bartenders Bash", a sort of spring break for the service industry people who were working serving drinks to the spring breakers a couple weeks before. There were painted on bathing suits, beads, sun and sand. What a way to unwind. The free beer stopped flowing early, so we "Kept on pursuing to the next stop", Key West!

What can I say about Key West? Well, Chris put it this way; it's like New Orleans without the smell. I have never been to NOLA, so I will defer to Chris, but man is this a great place. Duval St was the place to be. All of the bars had an open air feel, there was music being played by guys with guitars, the drinks were flowing, and the sun was shining. We had conch fritters and peel-n-eat shrimp at our first stop, Sloppy Joe's. Mmmmm delish!

As we were leaving I still had a beer in my hand. Not knowing the rules I thought I would head for the door and see what would happen. Sure enough, somebody stopped me. As I started to hand my beer over the man at the door stuck out a plastic cup. "Here is a cup to take your beer to go!" What? I think I love this place!

We wandered around, drinking beer, swapping stories, smoking cigars, and just having a blast. When we strolled into Rick's Cafe there was a man on stage with an acoustic guitar, and I headed straight for him. I negotiated my way on stage, but he would not let me play his guitar (he said it was a $9k instrument, so I don't blame him). I settled for singing while he played Jimmy Buffets Margaritaville, a classic favorite of my friends. When I was done he pointed out the live webcam feed and some viewers online were leaving flattering messages about my singing. Felt pretty good.

There we met a local named Andy. He was born in Key West, covered in hair and full of stories. He was a ladies’ man who told us about his most recent wife while hitting on the bar tender. What a guy.


We had a fantastic dinner out on the deck at Fogerty's. I had the freshest grouper I have ever tasted (ok, it was the first taste of grouper, but it was fresh!) and Chris insisted we try the key lime pie. That's good pie!

Later we stumbled into the Lazy Gecko where people were watching hockey and another guy was playing guitar. Almost immediately my friends informed him that I play guitar, and it was not long before I was on the stool in front of the mic. Someone shouted a request for House of the Rising Sun, so I started playing Margaritavile. At the end of a long day of drinking I could not remember anything else, so that was the end of my brief career as a performer in Key West.

The next morning we got a tip for a great little place to have breakfast. It was a little shack that had been around since the turn of the century, and yes, I bet all 50 presidents had breakfast there. The decor was eclectic, the food greasy spoon, and it was fantastic! We had mimosas to go with our omelets and corned beef hash.
After breakfast we hit the southernmost point of the continental U.S. for a photo op, did some shopping, and hit the road back home. What a great time.

Our begrudging departure from the Key's next...

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Happily Ever After...Part III

We continue with the series of my semi-auto biographical memoir-ish story of my life as I recall it...

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Happily Ever After


Part III:

We were all hanging out at the girls' favorite spot, the pool hall known as Ques-n-Brews. On the way back to the apartment, we were sitting in the back seat together, and she put her hand on my knee. Subtle, I know. But it was huge to me. I had been playing it cool, not wanting to push and scare her off, and not wanting to end up with just another empty relationship. It turns out, that was the only way this would have happened.

One night early on in the relationship, Kristy had made it clear to me what she thought of men. It was not pretty. I wanted to crawl into a hole, after first apologizing on behalf of my sex...morons. It seems that she had been through quite a lot of creeps, idiots, and downright jerks on her journey to me. I already looked great in comparison, but it was clear that she was not ready to have another relationship.

She was nothing like anyone I had ever met. She held a power over me so great that I would have back stroked my way across Lake Michigan just to spend five minutes with her. I was fascinated by her, and in awe of her intelligence. She had the world so figured out. She knew what she was all about.

Suddenly I had a reason to straighten myself out. I wanted to be with her, but I knew there was no way she would give me a second thought if I didn’t make some changes. I had to get a job, figure out this debt problem, and stop acting like a fool. Most importantly, I had to decide who I was as a person. What my values were.

Our first official date happened in May of 2001. I was back in Adrian visiting my folks over at my Aunt and Uncles house, Lonnie and Jim. I called Kristy and told her I was going to be passing by her place and wondered if she would like to hang out. This phone call brought much amusement to my family and they gave me the obligatory, “Oooooh, Randy has a date!” tease.

It was a double date of sorts, with my wife’s best friend and her brother who was in town from Penn St. I met everyone in my wife’s Battle Creek apartment. We went mini golfing and had lunch at the Big Boy on the corner. I was still playing it safe and not pushing things. I think she started to wonder if I would ever make a move. This would be evident on the next visit.

I visited her at her apartment a while later and it was starting to become obvious that there was interest on both sides, but again I was playing it safe. I had already gained so much from an intellectual sense and I did not want to screw anything up. As I was getting ready to say goodbye and head to Kalamazoo, Kristy asked me what I was waiting for.

We stood at my car in the parking lot of her apartment and I started to get in when she looked at me and sort of nonchalantly said, “So, are you ever going to kiss me or what?” I could not back down now, but I was nervous after being put on the spot. I leaned over to kiss her, gave her a sort of peck on the lips, the kind normally reserved for relatives, then I climbed in my car and sped off.

“You idiot!” I thought to myself on the drive home. I knew I had just blown it. No way would she be interested in me now.

Let me get back to a concept I touched on earlier. I was feeling down about myself and I had just ended my engagement, although I had not really a clear idea as to why. Something told me it was the right thing for me to do, but if someone wanted a quick one line explanation, I could not have given it to them.

Things were fine on the surface. We got along well. No fighting to speak of. Yet, something was stirring within me. I was about to commit the rest of my life to this woman, and I needed to be sure that was what I wanted. I didn’t want to lose her, but I was never completely sure that I wanted to be with her. I owed her for helping me out of my shell, but something just felt off.

Throughout my life I had always done what other people told me I should do. Most of my childhood was spent doing anything I could to please loved ones. I hardly ever got out of line. Sure, I had a problem focusing in school sometimes, but I was a kid. When I met Hollie, I was all too eager to please.

If she wanted to go somewhere I went. If she wanted us to buy something, we bought it. If there was a party…you get the idea. I had to perfect the art of excuses and sometimes downright lies to my parents in an effort to keep up with her. Later my brother would describe this syndrome as being “hooked on the cat”.

Naturally, when Hollie decided it was time that we got married, I was all too happy to go along with it. Granted, I had some reservations, but she soon overcame those. More like, beat me into submission with endless talk and visits to the jewelry store to pick out the ring. So one day, I just bought it. Right there in the mall, just outside of Zales Jewlers, I got on one knee and asked her to marry me. That ought to buy me some time I thought.

We began the tour. Visiting everyone we knew to show off the ring. I remember clearly when we caught up with my parents eating lunch with Uncle Jim and Aunt Lonnie in a pub called “Mr. Ed’s” in downtown Adrian.

“We have an announcement” I said. There was a large deep breath in and a long pause of dead silence. The look on my parents face was one of disguised shock. You could sort of read their thoughts. “Were smiling so you know we are happy for you, but what are you doing?”

Aunt Lonnie was the first to break the silence. She stood up and hugged us both. We sat down and finished the meal with them. Something just felt wrong to me, but I did not know what it was. Still, I felt like there was a long time between the ring and the isle, so I would figure out what was bothering me in due time.

At this point, I came to two distinct conclusions. The first was made clear that next summer when I was back from college working for a government funded youth work skills training program. A girl with a short skirt had caught my eye. I resisted as much as I could, not wanting to hurt my fiancé, but I longed to experience what life had to offer. I am not proud of myself, but I just had to investigate further. Soon I became the type of person I detested. I was sneaking out at night to meet this new girl. I could not help myself. I never slept with her, although I wanted to.

The second thing was me. I did not know who I was outside of my relationship with Hollie. I had supplanted other people’s values and desires for my own. I never really sat and thought, “What do I want out of life?” Once I did that, I knew that I needed to distance myself from her if I was ever going to find an answer.

It was a tough transition to make. I hated to hurt her, but I had to find out who I was. Maybe my future did involve her, and if it did then I would end up back with her. If it didn’t, then I would have been doing her, myself and our families a huge disservice by staying put and preparing for a wedding I did not even really want.

So, that fall, as we drove back to Western with our belongings in tow, I told Hollie it was over...

http://semicoherentramblingsofamadman.blogspot.com/

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Happily Ever After...Part II

We continue with the series of my semi-auto biographical memoir-ish story of my life as I recall it...


A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Happily Ever After...



Part II:

I was jobless, penniless, a college dropout with a mountain of debt, and I had no idea what I was going to do with my life when she walked into that bowling alley. I looked over my pitcher of beer and nearly choked. There was the woman I was going to marry.

Now I won't pretend that I knew that right away. I don't think anyone is really clairvoyant enough to take one glance at someone and just "know". After all, just a few years earlier I "knew" who I was going to marry. Let's just say I had an intense feeling that something was different, special even, with this one.

That is not to say that she felt the same way about me. As I said, I was a drunk, broke, jobless drop out without much appeal when I chugged that last bit of liquid courage and dropped myself on the stool next to her. What happened next would change my life forever.

She had been invited to this bowling party as a friend of a friend of a co-worker of mine. I had already met Jen, my wife’s best friend, and this was the only “in” I needed. As I made my way over to the girls, I pretended not to have an agenda. I was merely there to be friendly to someone I had met before and to introduce myself to her guest. They must have been able to see right through that.

There was this one problem, aside from the previously stated lack of qualifications; I was there with my stalker girlfriend. I quite literally dumped her on the spot; she had been sitting on my lap. When I broke the ice with the new girl she responded, "Isn't that your girlfriend over there?”

Awkward.

Not one to be phased by such insignificant details, I replied, "Who her? Oh, I was planning on breaking up with her."

This was mostly true, as I had just that week had my epiphany that I was through pretending to be someone I was not, and letting stalker girl down easy was something I just hadn’t finished puzzling out. At that very moment a saving grace came blasting over the crackling overhead speakers. It was the "Casper Slide, part II", and I knew all of the moves. I grabbed my future wife by the hand and insisted that she join me to shake what her momma gave her.

We danced, we laughed, and I made a complete fool of myself. Then a higher power intervened and she actually gave me her phone number; which I promptly lost. My roommate and I were off to another party, and I thought that I may never see this beautiful woman again.

A week later I was using my roommates phone when I came across a name that shot trough me like a lightning bolt. Christie. I would later find out that I had not even been close to spelling the name correctly, but this solved the mystery as to why I could not find her number. I had picked up my roommates phone on accident when she was giving it to me at the bowling alley that night.

Right away I tried to come up with a good reason that we should hang out. The answer became all too clear; I had to get them all to come to Karaoke. See, I was sort of a regular at the local bar. I loved to sing, not to say I could sing well, but there were always good times to be had by all when we hung out a Harpo's. Later we would change hang outs due to what my wife lovingly refers to as the tramps that were frequenting the establishment. That, and the place was robbed one Sunday and the custodian was shot and killed. That will put a damper in any hang out.

They came over, I played guitar a little, and we went to the club where we sang Karaoke all night. After the bar closed we went to a friend of mines apartment for a couple drinks. It was a bit stuffy in the apartment, so Kristy and I went outside. There we sat on the steps until 4am, trading stories about childhood, friends, and work. It was great. We could still be sitting there right now, talking away. We had such a great connection. I was terrified.

When she tells this story she always says that was the night she stopped thinking of me as just some guy that was fun to hang out with, and started to think of me as someone she wanted to be with. I say that connection didn't really set in for me until one night in the back seat of her best friend’s car, although not like you might think. Let me explain...

(To be continued...)

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Happily Ever After...

A while back I was inspired to write a bit about my life. This is what sort of spurred me on to create this blog. I sometimes feel torn about posting certain things, often wondering if it is worth reading or if it will cause me to be ridiculed, pitied, or laughed at, so it was tucked away...

Today I was digging through some old files and I came across that original text. It is rough and unfinished, as well as too long to post in one blog. However, I think it has some redeeming factors to it and thought maybe I could post it in a series, a la Charles Dickens, so here it is.


A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Happily Ever After...



Part I:

It seems strange now when I look back on it.

There I was, a fresh faced 18 year old kid. I knew so many things about the world. I knew that I was going to marry my high school sweet heart. I knew I was going to graduate from college in four years. I knew I would have a successful career as a Mechanical Engineer, and that money would never be a problem for me from that point forward. Jobs were plentiful and the economy was strong, so I knew there were easy times ahead. The promise of a house with a picket fence, a beautiful wife, 2.3 kids and a dog was just waiting to be handed to me. I had the whole world figured out. What could possibly go wrong?

It all started when I was 16. I was just coming out of my shell when one fateful summer I joined a friend of mine on a trip to Cedar Point, an amusement park in Ohio. We were in line for an old wooden coaster called the Blue Streak when I met her. She was bubbly and had a big smile, I was hooked.

After talking a bit we discovered that we lived a mere twenty minutes from each other back in MI. We exchanged phone numbers and went our separate ways, not knowing if we would ever meet again. Four years later, I was ending our engagement and striking out on my own…but I am getting ahead of myself.

Let’s back track to the early teen years. When I was coming up through the ranks in school, I had demonstrated a knack for math and science. I was by no means a genius, but it seemed to come naturally to me. In middle school I was chosen to be on our math and science Olympiad team, and we competed in a contest to build an egg catching device. Everyone was excited about my achievements, and it was largely assumed that I would go on to college and study some sort of science discipline.

I was sure that was the right path for me, but I was a relatively naive and sheltered young man. How can one be expected to plot their future at such an inexperienced and impressionable age? There were good people along the way who helped me out, and I think I ultimately made the right choice, but I didn’t really have a clue back then. I chose to attend Western Michigan University, with designs on becoming a Mechanical Engineer. It sure didn’t hurt that someone I met two years before in Ohio had also chosen WMU.

Strangely enough I had no idea what a Mechanical Engineer did, yet I was pretty convinced that was what I was going to be. After all, everyone always said I was good at figuring out how things work. I always assumed an ME got to build things with their hands. You know, erector set play time that eventually ended up creating a new machine design that would revolutionize production and change the world as we know it. Turns out, it doesn't quite work like that.

I finished school; although it was nothing like I knew it would be ten years ago. I have a Bachelors degree in Business Administration, focusing on Computer Information Systems. What does that mean? Well, it is nothing remotely close to an ME. Turns out, Engineers don't really build things. They theorize, test, suggest and work in a virtual world. Not for me. Plus, I had become depressed, withdrawn from my academics, and I was no longer willing to put in the time to learn how to calculate the definite integral (the area under the curve) of the trajectory path created when someone throws a rock off of a cliff.

Menagarie: Part Deux

It has been a while since the mood has struck me to ramble. I often find myself coming across a topic that I might "burn" on, and discarding it. In my mind I am always my toughest critic, and I compare my potential new post to the most responded to blogs of the past and it never seems to stack up. I guess I should stop worrying and just write. This is why I do not work for the Times or something...

I also noticed a trend to worry about spelling/grammar/accuracy. Many of my ramblings deal with others inability to find a coherent sentence with two hands and a flash light. Now I fret over every line I type and it takes way too long to put out a simple article. Then, inevitably I post what I think is a polished rant that has been gone over for hours, only to notice a glaring mistake after I click "Publish Post". Oh well, I guess it is what it is, and my opening disclaimer for this blog is that I am not an expert. Never claimed to be. I try to follow the proverb of, "Don't throw stones if you live in a glass house", but it is just too much fun to point out things like, "Are credit card machine is broken and We apologize for that!" So, my grammar is broken, and I apologize for that.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone out there is still reading what I ramble (this is not a shameless attempt to get you to write me, just an observation). Then, I will pass someone randomly in the hall at work or hear someone mention my blog to someone else and it reminds me that people are watching. Facebook is the same way. I often run into a co-worker or friend on campus that I don't see that often who will comment on some aspect of my private life that I know I have not spoken to them about. It will take a second, then it will hit me. They see the pictures online. So, remember, someone is always watching.

http://sports.yahoo.com/nfl/news?slug=cr-socialnetowrking040709&prov=yhoo&type=lgns

In that vein, I rambled a while back about the use of Facebook as a discovery tool when interviewing a potential employee. Now it seems that this technique has been taken to the next level. Charles Robinson of Yahoo Sports reports that NFL teams have taken to setting up fake profiles and befriending unsuspecting draft hopefuls in an effort to get a one of a kind in depth look into the private personal life of the young man they are about to invest millions in. I am a bit surprised at the fake profile tactic, seems a bit underhanded to me, but I don't blame them for wanting to protect their investments. Also, if the player is dumb enough to post a picture of himself with a spread of money and drugs, well then I have no sympathy for him. The moral of this story? Don't put anything on the web you would not bring to a job interview.

Observation: A computer is like a child. I am learning Linux (an operating system such as Windows or Mac) I am amazed at how often I forget that a computer is not capable of inferring intent from your command. I type something that makes sense to me, looking at the object I am referring to right in front of me on the screen. For some reason I am amazed that the computer has no idea what I mean! Then I realize, you have to be very explicit. This reminds me of something a parent would feel when asking a child to do something. How often has a parent given what they thought were reasonable instructions to a child such as load the washing machine? Later the parent enters the laundry room to find a full washer of dry, dirty clothes. If you do not specify to the child that you intend for them to add detergent and start the spin cycle you should be prepared for getting exactly what you asked for. I remember once when my brother and I were younger, my dad told us to go "hop" in the truck and he would be along shortly. When he arrived at his drivers door he noticed the vehicle bouncing wildly. As he stuck his head inside he found us complying to his request, literally hoping up and down in the truck. Priceless...

http://semicoherentramblingsofamadman.blogspot.com/

They're out to get me!

Call it Murphy's Law, call it bad luck, call it whatever you want, but the world is out to get me...

This has been a trend I have been observing for quite some time, and I have developed a theory. Today, after having the conspiring custodial staff yet again close the restroom for cleaning as I was approaching, I think that my theory holds some weight.

It seems that every time I exit my office and head in the direction of the rest room (clear on the other side of the building by the way, which is really inconvenient) the custodians close it for cleaning. This is not a coincidence folks.

Here is what I think is happening. There is a custodial spy stationed somewhere in the book stacks outside of my office (a clever ninja trained in the art of disguise as I have been unable to locate this person). When said spy sees me exit my office they radio to the waiting team near the men's room:

"Sanitaion-1, this is Mop&Bucket. The Eagle has flown the nest. I repeat, the Eagle has flown the nest. Commence operation restroom closed!"

They used to do such a good job of coordination that they had all restrooms closed at the same time, on all four floors. Wow! That level of dedication to ruining my morning is just unheard of! We have since requested that they only clean one at a time, which only makes sense if you ask me.

Now I know some of you are thinking, well that is just one example. Maybe you think I am overreacting...Well to that I offer this. When I was working retail sales, customers would conspire against me so that I could not eat my lunch! Yup, you heard me (or rather, read me?). They had a similar setup to the ninja-custodian team.

Every day it would be quiet as can be, very few customers. Then, I calmly approach the microwave to insert my lunch, and no sooner does the whir of the microwave begin, and radiation starts to soak into my frozen processed lunch when, "Ding!" A customer! Imagine that. Then another followed by another and you get the point. Soon enough my lunch has undergone physical state changes from solid to liquid, to something in between. Yuck!

I know these people are all calmly waiting in their parked cars, peering through binoculars to see me walk toward the microwave, and giving the all clear over their military issue walkie-talkies, sending a steady flow of people through the door for the next two hours.

Not enough evidence for you? Well, how is it that every time I get in line at the grocery store, there just happens to be someone in line in front of me paying with a check after asking for a price check on some random item they thought was marked $0.20 less than it rang in at?

I suppose you expect me to believe that the people driving 10 mph under the speed limit in front of me WHENEVER I am late is also a coincidence? Humph. I don't believe it.

So I ask you, what have I done to the universe to deserve such treatment? Please tell me so I can right my cosmic wrongs!

http://semicoherentramblingsofamadman.blogspot.com/