Hi there. As the late, great Joan Rivers used to say, "Can we talk?" No, she's not dead. I just felt like saying "late, great" in my description of the lady while I stole her signature line. I do that sometimes. It's 7:12 in the morning and I'm awake and I don't know why. Well, that's a lie too. I know why. That damn alarm on my clock went off and started beeping and making all sorts of noise. It's impossible to sleep with all that ruckus, so I decided to go ahead and get up. Plus I had to pee. I think that factored in there somewhere too.
So anyhow, here we are and I'm awake and my mind is just spinning out of control like a Nun visiting her first XXX porn shop. Ouch! Yeah, that's pretty bad. What? Don't condemn me for making fun of Nuns. The first comment that came to mind and I was originally going to use was "spinning out of control like a Catholic Priest in a Day Care Center". But I decided to have a slight bit of good sense and keep that one to myself. No reason to alienate Catholic Priests, Pedophiles and Day Care Center operators first thing in the morning. Better to wait for that until at least after noon. Of course the Nun comment isn't much better or respectful either. Oh well. They'll get over it. And I'm defeating my whole purpose for writing this morning anyhow.
What was my purpose? I'm sorry, but I just saw a guy vanish into thin air and it's creepy. Shall I explain? Do you really want to hear this? Do you have a choice?
So there I was, just seconds ago, sitting at my computer, wiping the sleep from my eyes and offending a large section of the world's population when I happened to notice that across the road, the guy who lives over there was standing outside waiting for his ride to work. Damn, he's a sexy young man too. Not but twenty-one years old with long brown hair. I would love to just get a hold of him for about an hour and ... never mind all that. Get your mind out of the gutter, you pervs. I just want to talk to him, share an adult beverage and... um... talk. He's a good looking kid. But unfortunately, he doesn't much like me. It makes me sad.
So I was watching him standing outside the house and wait for his ride. And his ride pulled up into the yard. They're running late this morning. And I watched the guy take his tools and stuff (he's a painter) and place them in the back of his ride's pick-up truck. And then he walked back towards the carport of his house. And the ride backed out and pulled off. But I didn't see him get into the truck. And I didn't see him go back into the house because why would he put his tools and stuff on the truck if he was staying home? I guess he just opened the door and climbed into the truck, but I didn't see the truck door open and I didn't see him climb in and I was being a nosy neighbor and watching hard. I guess he's just a Ninja in disguise and used some ancient secret move to vanish in plain sight. That might explain it. Or he just opened the door and climbed quickly into the cab, moving faster than usual because it's cold out there? That might be a possibility too since I did admittingly look away for a second. All I know is one moment he was there and the next, he wasn't. I think it's Ninja magic. It's creeping me out.
Today is going to be a busy day. Of course, all days as of late are busy. I'm not actually getting anything productive done, but still, it's just go, go and go, just like that little pink bunny rabbit that plays the drums. He's definitely no Ringo Starr or even Animal (from the Muppets), but that small little pink bunny just keep's going and going and going. That annoys the hell out of me. Someone needs to take a gun and shoot that thing.
I just noticed something. I like to start off paragraphs and sentences with the word "So" a lot. Now I'm going to have a complex about using that word. It's so sad.
My plans today are to go to an appointment, pay some money I can't afford and then go pick up at the grocery store (Food Lion) for the Food Bank. And since my usual ride isn't available due to mechanical problems (Lynn's station wagon is sick), my boss-lady from the church is giving me a lift. That's pretty awesome of her. But she's an awesome person anyhow. And I just remembered why I started writing this. It involves a situation that the before-mentioned awesome lady, her daughter and myself had yesterday. We had an adventure,just like Pee Wee did. I guess we can call it Doug, Sue and Sarah's Big Adventure. It was exciting. It was dramatic. It was crazy. It was laugh so you don't cry. It was (I'm running out of adjectives here) the bee's knees. (And I'm still not even sure if bee's have knees). Want to hear about it? Of course you do. So I'll be right back and as soon as I get back, I'll tell you all the juicy details. Don't go away.
Okay, I'm back. Did you miss me? I decided to go ahead and get showered, shaved, etc. and actually be ready when Miss Sue gets here instead of writing until I get all writtened out (is that even a word?) and then be running late. No one likes that, especially me. Besides, I was kind of rank. Not really dirty (I took a shower last night before I went to bed so I hadn't had a chance to get dirty), but still, that early morning, just barely awake, drag-ass kind of feeling. I had that going on and had to get rid of that dastardly feeling. So I did and now I'm "Irish Spring Clean". Well, I didn't actually use Irish Spring either. I used some Old Spice Body Wash. It smells good and the women love it. Of course, that really doesn't do a damn thing for me, but still... I smell much better.
So back to my misadventures from yesterday. Stop me if you've heard this. It's a typical Tuesday and we're on our way to Aberdeen to pick up some groceries for the Food Bank. We do this every Tuesday to ensure that we have plenty of goodies for our clients. On an average week, we feed roughly 800 people. Yeah, it's that bad around here and it doesn't look like it'll be getting any better anytime soon.
We go up to Aberdeen. It's Miss Sue, her daughter Sarah and I make three. Are you with me so far? We go to the warehouse for the Food Bank and guess what we have there to greet us when we arrive? Two school buses full of children. It seems that some school had made a big donation to the Food Bank (that's good) and decided that in presenting their donation, they would also come and do a presentation for the people at the warehouse. So we get there and run right into roughly 45 or so young children, probably all in the 7-8 year old range, singing and dancing and doing Christmas carols for the Food Bank people.
Forty-five children? I've died and gone to hell! I am not a people person by anyone's standards and tiny people especially make me nervous and jittery and just plain freaked out. They're so little and they look just like us, but they still have fun and innocence and optimism. It's like a whole new alien world and they creep me out. All of these young, shiny, bright faces,all dressed up in their black pants and white shirts and not a care in the world and they're singing something about Frosty doing the hand-jive. They even have this little group dance to go along with the songs. Please, shoot me now!!
So they're doing their thing and we're just watching and listening and I'm starting to enjoy the music, which scares me even more. And I'm looking at all these kids and starting to get that moment of regret and sad feeling that happens every so often where I wish I had some kids to call my own. Yeah, that is one thing that I do have regrets about in that I never had any kids when I was younger. And then reality set in and I realized that one or two kids might be cute, but there are 45 of them here and if we're not careful, they'll over whelm us and take over and put everyone over forty into a home. And I'm over forty now (damn it) so I'd best get the "wish I was a daddy" thoughts out of my head and concentrate on the matters at hand.
The kids sang and dance and everyone clapped and we had a big feel-good Hallmark moment as the guy in charge of the Food Bank made a little speech and wished everyone "Happy Holidays". But why did he say "Happy Holidays" and not "Merry Christmas"? Political correctness reigns supreme, I guess. But I did catch that and I didn't like it. Of course, no one asked me if I liked it or not. The Food Bank guy was probably just playing it safe because in this day and time, if he had dared to invoke the name of Christ and say "Merry Christmas", one of those sweet, innocent, lovely little lads or lasses would probably have told their parents about it and the ACLU would be there to sue the place and shut them down. Bastards!!
The kids did their thing and finally left and we got busy getting the things we needed to get to bring back here to Laurinburg to ensure that our people get plenty of grub to munch on when we distribute on Thursday. We took care of bid'ness and got to moving and the Food Bank warehouse. We went to McDonald's because they have McNuggets and that great Dollar Menu. And when we left McDonald's, it happened.
(Dramatic Pause here...)
Sue went over the curb. Oops! And we heard the noise. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. We now had a hole in the tire. We're getting a flat. Oh shit!! So we make it across the highway and pull into a car wash. Sarah goes for the jack while I go digging into the back of the truck, which has roughly about a thousand pounds of food loaded into it, and get the spare tire. It was tied in with a metal coat hanger and let me tell you this. It was a royal pain to get unhooked.
I finally get it unhooked and Sarah has borrowed a jack from some guy in one of the car wash stalls (a young studly who works at Food Lion and tells us repeatedly that he's a redneck). His jack won't work (not big enough) so he shows off his manly knowledge and uses the jack that belongs to us and gets the truck started jacking up. Sarah is trying to do it and he keeps trying to "help" and he's getting on her nerves. That's pretty obvious. He keeps reminding us again and again that he can change tires and he's a "redneck" and Sarah is pretty much trying to be polite, but tells him to get out of her way. I think by this point, Sue has pretty much given up on all of us and is not happy. Mr. Redneck leaves once the truck is jacked up and Sarah pulls the tire off. I put the spare on and we're good to go. It's obvious that Sarah has changed a few tires in her day. So have I, but I decided pretty quickly to stay out of her way (for the most part). We got it done and were back on the road headed back to Laurinburg.
We got back to the church and unloaded the truck and all was right with the world once again. And looking back now, while it was exciting and a change of pace for us, yesterday wasn't quite nearly as exciting as it first seemed. It was definitely a moment, but my writing and attempting to describe it doesn't quite do it the justice that it deserves. I guess you just had to be there.
And now, I'm here waiting for my ride to go out and do it all over again. Well, not all of that because one day of changing tires and singing, dancing munchkins is more than enough to be sure. Just ready to go out and do my stuff so I can hurry back home and be happy and go back to bed. And that's really what it's all about, isn't it? I think we have a big truck coming this afternoon too. Damn! Well, its for a good cause so no complaints. And I've rambled long enough. I hope I haven't bored or confused anyone too badly.
I'll be back... eventually. Have a very Merry Christmas!! And God Bless Us, everyone.
Ubuntu!
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