Minstrel
Hero Member
$5.37. That's what the kid behind the counter at Taco
Bueno said to me. I dug into my pocket and pulled out some
lint and two dimes and something that used to be a Jolly
Rancher. Having already handed the kid a five-spot, I
started to head back out to the truck to grab some change
when the kid with the Emo hairdo said the harshest thing
anyone has ever said to me. He said, "It's OK. I'll just
give you the senior citizen discount."
I turned to see who he was talking to and then heard the
sound of change hitting the counter in front of me. "Only
$4.68" he said cheerfully. I stood there stupefied. I am 48,
not even 50 yet a mere child! Senior citizen?
I took my burrito and walked out to the truck wondering
what was wrong with Emo. Was he blind? As I sat in the truck
, my blood began to boil. Old? Me?
I'll show him, I thought. I opened the door and headed
back inside. I strode to the counter, and there he was
waiting with a smile.
Before I could say a word, he held up something and
jingled it in front of me, like I could be that easily
distracted! What am I now? A toddler?
"Dude! Can't get too far without your car keys, eh?" I
stared with utter disdain at the keys. I began to
rationalize in my mind. "Leaving keys behind hardly makes a
man elderly! It could happen to anyone!"
I turned and headed back to the truck. I slipped the key
into the ignition, but it wouldn't turn. What now? I checked
my keys and tried another. Still nothing. That's when I
noticed the purple beads hanging from my rearview mirror. I
had no purple beads hanging from my rearview mirror.
Then, a few other objects came into focus. The car seat
in the back seat. Happy Meal toys spread all over the
floorboard. A partially eaten doughnut on the dashboard.
Faster than you can say ginkgo biloba, I flew out of the
alien vehicle. Moments later I was speeding out of the
parking lot, relieved to finally be leaving this nightmarish
stop in my life. That is when I felt it, deep in the bowels
of my stomach: hunger! My stomach growled and churned, and I
reached to grab my burrito, only it was nowhere to be found.
I swung the truck around, gathered my courage, and
strode back into the restaurant one final time. There Emo
stood, draped in youth and black nail polish. All I could
think was, "What is the world coming to?" All I could say
was, "Did I leave my food and drink in here?" At this point
I was ready to ask a Boy Scout to help me back to my vehicle
, and then go straight home and apply for Social Security
benefits.
Emo had no clue. I walked back out to the truck, and
suddenly a young lad came up and tugged on my jeans to get
my attention. He was holding up a drink and a bag. His
mother explained, "I think you left this in my truck by
mistake." I took the food and drink from the little boy and
sheepishly apologized.
She offered these kind words: "It's OK. My grandfather
does stuff like this all the time."
All of this is to explain how I got a ticket doing 85 in
a 40. Yes, I was racing some punk kid in a Toyota Prius. And
no, I told the officer, I'm not too old to be driving this
fast.
As I walked in the front door, my wife met me halfway
down the hall. I handed her a bag of cold food and a $300
speeding ticket. I promptly sat in my rocking chair and
covered up my legs with a blanky.
The good news was I had successfully found my way home.
This was sent to me by a friend,
Minstrel
Bueno said to me. I dug into my pocket and pulled out some
lint and two dimes and something that used to be a Jolly
Rancher. Having already handed the kid a five-spot, I
started to head back out to the truck to grab some change
when the kid with the Emo hairdo said the harshest thing
anyone has ever said to me. He said, "It's OK. I'll just
give you the senior citizen discount."
I turned to see who he was talking to and then heard the
sound of change hitting the counter in front of me. "Only
$4.68" he said cheerfully. I stood there stupefied. I am 48,
not even 50 yet a mere child! Senior citizen?
I took my burrito and walked out to the truck wondering
what was wrong with Emo. Was he blind? As I sat in the truck
, my blood began to boil. Old? Me?
I'll show him, I thought. I opened the door and headed
back inside. I strode to the counter, and there he was
waiting with a smile.
Before I could say a word, he held up something and
jingled it in front of me, like I could be that easily
distracted! What am I now? A toddler?
"Dude! Can't get too far without your car keys, eh?" I
stared with utter disdain at the keys. I began to
rationalize in my mind. "Leaving keys behind hardly makes a
man elderly! It could happen to anyone!"
I turned and headed back to the truck. I slipped the key
into the ignition, but it wouldn't turn. What now? I checked
my keys and tried another. Still nothing. That's when I
noticed the purple beads hanging from my rearview mirror. I
had no purple beads hanging from my rearview mirror.
Then, a few other objects came into focus. The car seat
in the back seat. Happy Meal toys spread all over the
floorboard. A partially eaten doughnut on the dashboard.
Faster than you can say ginkgo biloba, I flew out of the
alien vehicle. Moments later I was speeding out of the
parking lot, relieved to finally be leaving this nightmarish
stop in my life. That is when I felt it, deep in the bowels
of my stomach: hunger! My stomach growled and churned, and I
reached to grab my burrito, only it was nowhere to be found.
I swung the truck around, gathered my courage, and
strode back into the restaurant one final time. There Emo
stood, draped in youth and black nail polish. All I could
think was, "What is the world coming to?" All I could say
was, "Did I leave my food and drink in here?" At this point
I was ready to ask a Boy Scout to help me back to my vehicle
, and then go straight home and apply for Social Security
benefits.
Emo had no clue. I walked back out to the truck, and
suddenly a young lad came up and tugged on my jeans to get
my attention. He was holding up a drink and a bag. His
mother explained, "I think you left this in my truck by
mistake." I took the food and drink from the little boy and
sheepishly apologized.
She offered these kind words: "It's OK. My grandfather
does stuff like this all the time."
All of this is to explain how I got a ticket doing 85 in
a 40. Yes, I was racing some punk kid in a Toyota Prius. And
no, I told the officer, I'm not too old to be driving this
fast.
As I walked in the front door, my wife met me halfway
down the hall. I handed her a bag of cold food and a $300
speeding ticket. I promptly sat in my rocking chair and
covered up my legs with a blanky.
The good news was I had successfully found my way home.
This was sent to me by a friend,
Minstrel
