Business and Economy

A higher calling or are the standards falling?

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Right, this doesn't seem like an accident waiting to happen...

Right, this doesn’t seem like an accident waiting to happen…

Sort of how Moses was chosen to come down from Mount Sinai with the commandments, my higher calling in life is to deliver unto you crappy stories – literally. I am here to deliver all the poop that’s fit to print!

math

These things don’t happen to most people – except for lucky me. I’m not sure why I’m a turd magnet, but apparently I am. One of the earliest times was in eighth grade math class when Ms. Dickinson wouldn’t let a classmate named Rob out of the room to use the bathroom because she thought he would go smoke instead. She learned never to doubt again when he proceeded to march into her storage closet and take a shit four feet from her in full view. I bet she never made that mistake again – they suspended him for it, but he did ask her nicely for the pass so I kinda think she got what she deserved on that one…

As you can see, my love for the gym started at an early age...

As you can see, my love for the gym started at an early age…

One time at Fat Camp, there was a camper we all hated and he got one of his counselors in a lot of trouble when he ratted Dave out for being wasted during the day. I felt kinda bad because I was the one that made Dave drive me to the bar for happy hour in the first place but he was wasted and at least he didn’t sell me out too…The kid was only there for three weeks and Dave kept saying he was gonna get back at him, but we didn’t pay it any mind. When the kid’s parents came to pick him up, Dave walked him to the car and loaded his duffle bag personally into the trunk and hugged that kid as if they were brothers – very suspicious mind you. We realized why he was so over the top with them when we heard the blood-curdling screams from the kid’s mother moments later. Apparently, Dave got back at the kid by opening his packed duffle bag and hovering above it after lunch to send him home with a souvenir he’d never forget. Who could predict that the kid’s mother would reach into the bag to get his Walkman out for the car ride home before they left camp and she put her hand right into the duffle of defecation…I know the kid was a bastard, and I felt bad for the mother, but I couldn’t help but smile because I knew there was no way that family would ever set foot in the camp again!

What happened to Jordan Catalano? He ate hibachi...

What happened to Jordan Catalano? Hibachi fire…

My wife and I were meeting another couple out for dinner at a hibachi restaurant and we were running late because I was trying to force her to stop for food on the way. I don’t like a regular ethnic restaurant, nonetheless one where they cook it in front of you – without gloves mind you – and throw it around: They’re all like “Here, let me throw this shrimp in your shirt pocket” and I’m all like “Here, let me throw this shoe at your face.”  Also, doesn’t really seem safe now does it? Get a little too close and your face and eyebrows will melt off like my Aunt Wink. We meet up with the other couple and went to the hostess for seating. Since there would be a short wait, I thought it was a perfect opportunity to hit the little boy’s room and wash my hands.

who throws a show

As I walked in, I was overwhelmed with how bad the room smelled. I couldn’t immediately decipher if it was the odor of the bathroom or the spices being used in the kitchen. I went into the stall to get some toilet paper to blow my nose and stopped dead in my tracks. A dead body would have been less shocking, but right there in the stall was a pair of dirty men’s boxer shorts on the floor right in front of the toilet. When I say that there were dirty boxers on the floor, I don’t mean that they had a sweat stain on them; what I mean by dirty is that someone had shit their pants in a major way and left the boxer shorts in front of the toilet with the eggs still in the crate if you know what I mean.

As a person that has also lost their shit many times as if it was a hobby or my minor in college, I can empathize with the situation. What I cannot understand is how an animal might do that in a restaurant and then step out of the boxers and then leave them on the effing floor. Who does that? Did he go back to his table? Was he on a date? Imagine how lucky that lady is… Was there a patron in the dining room now going post-deuce commando? More importantly, did he seek medical attention, because that guy probably wasn’t OK after that…

After gagging in the sink, I ran out of the bathroom – lest anyone see that explosion in there and think it was my doing. I ran straight over to the hostess and explained. “It was not me! I have underwear on! I have underwear on! (At this point I lifted my shirt and pulled out the elastic of my underwear to show her and prove I wasn’t going commando.) She was looking at me like I was crazy as I tried to explain the disaster I just witnessed – but she glared at me almost mad with half suspicion that I was crazy and half disgust that I was telling her something so nasty. “Call housekeeping, call the police, or call your mother lady, but for God’s sake call someone in there right now!”

At that point, I tried to explain to my wife and the other couple because they thought I was fooling around. Who fools around and makes something like that up I do not know, but the restaurant sent reinforcements in right away. I didn’t want to eat there beforehand, but now that I had been traumatized, less so. Then I couldn’t stop fixating that it might be one of their employees so I was eyeing every waiter, bus boy, and cook up and down to see if anyone was walking strangely or seemed suspicious…Needless to say not a good night to be eating out…

As if that weren’t enough to make me sick, today at the gym it was de ja vu! I went to wash my face off after my workout and walked past the shower stalls when low and behold – there was a deuce in the stall. A deuce in the shower stall! I stopped dead in my tracks because I couldn’t believe that someone would do that not even ten feet from the bathroom stalls. Who shits in the shower? That can’t have possibly happened on accident – who accidentally shits themselves in the shower? I know it’s probably too late for me not to be disgusting, but it was a solid turd – there is no way that slipped out without someone knowing. If you really have no control of something like that happening, please consider a diaper if you run on the treadmill…Now who still doesn’t think they need flip flops in the gym showers?

flip flops in shower

I’m not condoning these actions because some of them are pretty gross – I’m just reporting it.  I am literally, giving you the turd’s eye view of the situation. This is just a sampling, but I think we need to start handing out Imodium on the street like pamphlets- it’s an outright contagion and I have to watch my step – literally.

Senior Spotlight on my younger sister

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Call the Lost and Found! This was the last reported trace of my Aunt WInk’s eyebrows…

I was driving back from the supermarket yesterday when I had to pull over to let a fire truck get past me on the way to some emergency and it reminded me of one of the places my sister Marlene used to live in. This ordinarily wouldn’t be noteworthy but, my sister was just 24 years old cohabitating with our crazy 62 year old aunt in an Adult 55-and-over community at the time.

Something is definitely off track when you’re not yet feeling your late-twenties angst but your housemate is collecting Social Security; that’s no longer a roommate situation – it’s a sitcom.

My aunt Wink has shocking red hair, weighs less than most stick figures I’ve drawn, and once upon a fine summer day had to be tucked under my sister-in-law’s arm like a purse and carried out of HER own going-away party. That’s not even the most random thing about her: She’s a hairdresser yet doesn’t own a set of eyebrows. I tell you, her forehead is bare as a baby’s bottom! Try rolling your eyes at something ridiculous and when you look up – there’s not a stitch of hair in sight, just a vast wasteland. I’m not sure if they were too expensive and she’s on a tight budget or if she was the victim of a hit-and-run but somebody should dial 911 because there was a crime committed for sure. I never really thought that the Great Long Island Eyebrow Shortage of 1995 was a real epidemic, but I’m starting to reconsider my position. To combat this follicular dilemma, she uses a red crayon to color in where the eyebrows used to rest their weary souls. She has to be careful in the summer though – one wrong swipe of a sweaty forehead and she’ll be mistaken for Homey the Clown again! That being said, she is hysterical and was a perfect roommate for my sister Marlene, because crazy radiates towards crazy and those two were like magnets.

What made the pairing of these two kindred spirits dangerous was that, despite the vast age difference between them, they were eerily similar to each other but neither would ever cop to it. If my sister Marlene was the opposite of my aunt, or at least a little different it might have worked out, but she’s actually just a much younger version of her. Besides the fact that the two of them share the same first name and a natural proclivity towards excessive cursing and chain-smoking; Shave Marlene’s brows off, and Maury wouldn’t even need a DNA test to be 99.9% sure of that Baby Momma.

Marlene loved living there and she really was in her element – all the old ladies flocked to her and lived vicariously through her. It was as if In Her Shoes took place on Long Island instead of Florida and she was Cameron Diaz without the There’s Something About Mary hair. In return, she headed straight to the nearest JC Penney the day after she unpacked to purchase a new floral housecoat. It was her very own Fantasy Island and my aunt was Tattoo to Marlene’s Mr. Roarke.

Marlene and some of her peeps just hangin’

My wife and I were driving to visit Marlene one afternoon when we got caught in some really backed up-traffic. Believe me when I tell you that in Long Island this is to be expected as the norm, but this was different. All of a sudden fire trucks come blaring past us on the side street we were perched on. We were about a mile down the road from their development, but the sirens were still close after they passed us. I tried calling their house line and got the machine. Tried cell phone and got the voice mail. Thinking the worst, we tried calling another ten times as if that would alleviate the situation or make them answer.

Finally we crept down the street and turned into their development to see multiple police cars and fire engines, and lots of people outside. We parked and ran towards their front door, when we heard that all-too-familiar voice calling out: “Hey!” We turned to see the ghost of Christmas future right there in front of us. Marlene was at her post in the center of about seven various housecoats snapped up to the collar all with cigarette ashes dangling from the sides of their mouths. They were huddled together on the grass more intently than most of the football huddles I’ve ever seen.

She paused only to take another drag “Get over here, Gloria saw the whole thing” she shouted excitedly, drawing us into the circle. There was actually more smoke coming out of all their cigarettes, than from the actual cars involved in the accident. We tried to tell her that we had been calling non-stop because we were worried with the sirens, but she didn’t have her phone with her because “it happened so fast and she didn’t want to miss anything.”

Marlene and some friends just chillin’

My wife looked at her and shook her head, then at me and then looked back to Marlene:  “You need to move out of here right away!” She took another long drag from her cigarette and questioned “What are you talking about? This place is great!” There was no convincing her to move out and she stayed there living high on the hog as a life-surrogate for the seniors for another year. I guess it wasn’t technically a mid-life crisis for her, but it was certainly a funny thing for the rest of us to talk about.

Shoe better believe she had these on!!!

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So I was at work being the little Yenta that I am and  just minding my business, when all of a sudden one of my coworkers walked in. I immediately hung up with the client that I was talking to so I could check and make sure she was OK because with just one look at her shoes I could tell that she must have been the victim of a hit and run assault.  It looked like someone had stolen her shoes and left her standing in her socks. It’s either that or there was a half off sale at the she store because they literally took half off the shoes! Take a look:

 

Shoe better not wear these n the rain or your feet will get soaked!

 

I’m all for individuality and creating your own style, but even The Others on Lost had more ankular support than this! What if you get chased by someone and have to run? I guess they would be cooler for the summer than a full shoe would, but with a heel that high you’re definitely risking a broken ankle. And what about if you have kankles? Do you just loosen the straps a little. I’ll just stick with my orthopedic oxfords thank you very much! I actually have an American Flag thong that offers more coverage than these shoes do!!!

Let me know what you think of these shoes or if you have a pair of your own.