Thursday, September 27, 2012

Diagonally Parked in a Parallel Universe

Hey, honey! I've called a couple times but keep getting your voicemail... dinner is ready and waiting, and I was wondering if you wanted to walk with us... Dotter has youth group at church and I thought maybe we could all walk  together to drop her off. We'll be waiting for you!


*** 10 minutes later ***


[phone rings]

Hey! About time! When will you be home? I was wondering ----

(whispering) I can't talk now... I've got to get back before they find out I'm gone....

Umm... what?

(still whispering) I've got to get back...

Where are you?

I can't talk now. I'll explain it all later.

Have you been kidnapped by the drug cartel or are you just messing with me? Because I am not calling 9-1-1 unless you're seriously being held hostage.

[click]


*** 45 minutes later ***


(busting through the front door) Thank god I set my alarm or I would've been totally screwed!

Ummm.... okay. I'll play along. Yay for alarms! Thank the Lord Almighty! What would we ever do without alarms! Now where the hell have you been for the past two hours?

At court.

Court?

Yeah, court.

Like home of lawers and judges and prison sentences kind of court?

Yeah.

Why?

Is this fish?

Yes. That is fish. That there is rice. And over in this dish we have some roasted corn because I didn't have any green vegetables, which, according to Mrs. Sorenson - my middle school Home Ec teacher, I would have needed green to balance out the pale color of the fish and rice. Oh, and by the way, I'd strongly urge you to explain why you were in court for the past two hours.

I wasn't in court for two hours. I was waiting at court for two hours. The whole thing only took a few minutes. How long should I heat this up for?

Sixteen minutes. What did you do to land yourself in court?

It wasn't my fault. You know me, I'm the first person to admit when I'm wrong --

You have never admitted ever to being wrong about anything.

Yes I have.

Really? Giving the 14-month old Halls cough drops?

He wanted them!

Paying $50 over asking price for that broken down lawn mower?

I felt bad for the guy!

He was a wanted criminal.

Do you want to hear this or not?

Fine. Go ahead. You were saying that you were wrong...

No - I wasn't wrong. I said I'd admit it if I was, but I wasn't. This was totally the police officer's fault.

[silence]

See, two months ago I was headed to WalMart along that section that's two lanes and there was a cop driving ahead of me in the next lane. When I turned to go to WalMart he pulled me over and gave me a ticket even though he never even clocked me! He had no idea if I was speeding or not! Anyway. The court date was today and I would have totally forgotten if I hadn't set the alarm in my phone.

So, the cop - who was in front of you - looked through his rear view mirror, saw you turning into WalMart and decided to swing around and give you a made up speeding ticket?

Well, he wasn't in front of me when he pulled me over. By that time I was in front of him because I had passed him. But still, he had no idea how fast I was actually going because he never clocked me. Are you sure I should put this in for sixteen minutes? It sounds done....

It's fine. So, you're driving along the road and see a cop in the next lane in front of you. Let's assume the police officer was driving the speed limit (as many are known to do)... and then you decide to speed up and pass him? Which means you had to speed up faster than the posted speed limit. So.... you were speeding.

I wasn't speeding. You can go up to seven miles over the speed limit and not get a ticket.

I didn't realize it was optional. I thought those speed limit signs said "35" ... not "35 plus seven miles if you feel like it." Besides, if the posted speed limit is 35 wouldn't that mean anything over that number is, well, speeding? So you were speeding and got a ticket.

But that's what you're not getting! The cop never even clocked me! He doesn't know if I was speeding!

You already admitted to going fast enough to pass the police officer, who we assume was driving the posted, legal speed limit. In order to pass him you had to increase your speed, thereby speeding.

Who's side are you on?

Obviously not yours.

You don't even understand. It's not even my fault! I had a green arrow and I wanted to get through the intersection before it turned. This smells like it's burning.

So, you sped past a cop to make the arrow? How is that not your fault?

But I didn't make the arrow! See, you don't know the whole story. The arrow turned yellow and I had a choice to continue through the intersection or to stop. And since I knew the police officer was there I slammed on my brakes.

You speed past a cop just to hit a green arrow and then slam on your brakes at the last second... and you still don't see how any of this is your fault?

Can I get to the end, please? So, I'm sitting at the red light and I just had this feeling he was going to pull me over and sure enough! When I make the turn he throws his lights on and gives me a ticket - but it wasn't even a real speeding ticket because he never clocked me. It was for something called imprudent speeding! ... This is totally burnt. I can't even eat this.

Do you even know what imprudent means?

No, not at all.

Unwise.  Foolish.  Idiotic.  Stupid.

Oh. Well. That kind of explains things.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

I'm Too Young to be This Old

Once, in high school, I passed out in the locker room after swim class and the gym teacher rescued me which was awful because my swimsuit was half off and there's nothing like waking up from a coma to your male gym teacher pleading someone pull her suit up. As if that wasn't bad enough - and it totally should have been - I was then singled out by the Vice Principal. She thought I had an eating disorder and my punishment for passing out was eating school lunch in the nurse's office every day for a week. I had to sit there for a half hour after I was finished to make sure I didn't purge. I tried to tell them that if they wanted to join me for my daily Big Mac and french fries dipped in mayo lunch down at the local McDonald's they could. Let me tell you, I liked to eat!

But somehow I got old. And my body got decrepid. And I feel weak and creaky and ... well, old. Like my body just isn't functioning like it should. Like it used to. And one thing led to another, which led to celiac disease and gross gluten free breads, and now I'm staring down an appointment with a Dietician/Nutrionist. I'm assuming my problems are stemming from a less than stellar gluten free diet. I get confused over whether or not I can have things that include whey and stuff like that.

And I know what's going to happen: she's going to make me keep track of what I eat. And I'm going to have to come clean about the multiple cans of soda and the candy bars and the fact that I really can eat an entire bag of Salt & Pepper Pop Chips in one sitting. (Don't look at me like that; according to the nutrional information there are only 3 servings per bag.)

She's going to make me eat celery. And egg whites. And I'm going to have to scour the ingredients list on every stupid package of food to make sure there's no hydroxypropylated starch of caramel color or sphingolipids listed because they might utilize a gluten-containing grain in their manufacturing process and honestly, I'd rather just dive into a Big Mac. I might as well throw in my dentures and shuffle down to the dining hall for my unsalted mush-meal.

Also, that gym teacher who saw me half-naked? Yeah, he comes in my office all the time. Awkward.