Saturday, July 6, 2013

The Last Thirty Minutes

I'm going to tell you about three things that just happened. They "just" happened, as in they occurred within the last half hour.

First, I bought a cheesecake from a recovering drug addict. He represents such and such a charity ("Hogar" something or other), and once a month these men and women descend upon our hallways awkwardly selling cheesecakes to raise funds for their recovery center. I bought one, ate the entire thing, just wrapped up a text message regarding how awful an idea that was (to eat the entire thing) and another cheesecake appeared before me on the display shelf.

So, either a miracle occurred, or my stuttering salesman managed to sneak into the store, stood NEXT to me, and slipped me another cheesecake gratis, on the recovery house. I neither saw nor heard him.

*insert Arrested Development reference*

Before I could even piece of pie together what had just fucking happened, I was summoned to our other shop.

I saw a midget sitting in a public ashtray.

I say "public ashtray" so as to distinguish between the type of ashtray you might find on a coffee table, and one which a human being (at least a midget) could conceivably sit inside of. The imagery was whimsical nonetheless.

Last, and probably least, I saw a t-shirt with an American flag on it that said "Proud." This struck me as redundant. No one waves a flag out of shame. Maybe you wave a white flag out of shame, or you experience some degree of humility while doing so. But no one is shoving a national flag in my face because they've realized, to however marginal a degree, how inconsequential their own existence might be. It's ridiculous. We get it. FLAGGY MCFLAGGLETON.

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