Monday, February 6, 2012

The Chinese Restaurant.

Yes, that’s a blatant Seinfeld episode title rip-off. Sue me. Actually, don’t. We’re trying to save money to build a house.
This morning I sat down to type out a blog, and I thought, “Dang, I don’t really have any material. I wish the kids would do something funny or stupid.” Then I immediately asked forgiveness for that thought, knowing full well it would come to fruition just because I’d wished it. So I settled into work and forgot about the blog.
On my lunch break, I went to get my hair cut. I decided to go a little shorter than I normally do, and I told Alicia that I’m considering trying to pull off the John Travolta “From Paris with Love” look. I really think I could rock the bald head and goatee look, and I’d like to try it out.
I can do this. Minus the earring. And the sex appeal. Oh, and the scarf.
She didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no either, so there’s a chance.
So I’m now done with the haircut and decide to go get Chinese for lunch. When I walk in, I’m seated next to a gentleman who is…rocking the bald head and goatee look. I’m telling you, it’s a sign from God. Anyway, apart from being a divine symbol encouraging me to rid myself of these reddish blonde locks that alight my lumpy head, this guy wasn’t the interesting person in his party. It was his sidekick.
This guy had THE BEST stories I have ever heard. He opened with a story about how his cousin had lifted a six foot four guy in the air with one arm until he peed on himself. Then he moved straight into a story about how his uncle was in Folsom prison with Merle Haggard. I have since searched the Wiki on Merle, and it said he was in San Quentin, but who am I to call this ol’ boy a liar? After telling about the imprisonment of his wayward uncle, GOB, (Good ol Boy) regaled his table with a story of how he played with some kids for forty five minutes by himself one time before someone told him they’d been molested before. Then he moved straight into a life lesson for the young man at the table, explaining that “men are designed to get angry, but they aren’t allowed to show it anymore, and most of us just die inside cause of that.” Then he enlightened his co-worker with the knowledge about ATM fees from Bank of America, saying, “Two dollars is two dollars!” He closed by asking his ride if he could swing him by the “Wall D Mart,” which triggered the mental image below.
*insert long monologue about how K-Mart is the mart who lived...come to die*
After they left their table, I got up wondering how my day could get anymore interesting. I mean, so far I’d had a decent haircut, a sign from God, and I’d been held rapt with the cunning linguistic stylings of the Bard of the New China Buffet.
But there was more.
You see, yesterday, my wonderful Duke Blue Devils got beat by the Miami Hurricanes. It was a terrible and completely preventable loss, and it pretty much ruined my day.
Well, as I’m leaving the Chinese restaurant, I happen to notice that they have a vending machine that sells mini plastic college logo basketballs. I look closer, and lo and behold, they advertise there are Duke balls in that machine. So I start looking around the machine, prepared to spend any amount of money needed to fish a Duke ball out of there. I searched and searched, but they were all out of Duke University basketballs. Booooooooo. Not the way I want to start Rivalry Week.
I walk out the front door, and I see a kid throw the tiny plastic basketball he just got out into the parking lot. The mom looked very frustrated, and she did not move to get the ball, which was now rolling into the road. The kid is crying, and I’m thinking, “The kid’s a douche, he shouldn’t get that ball anyway, he needs to learn not to throw stuff.” Then I think, “Wait, our Sunday School lesson yesterday was about helping people. Maybe God wants me to help this kid, after all he did give me the bald hair goatee sign earlier.”
So I amble out to the road to pick this thing up, and I look at the mom and say, “I got it.” She thanks me and waits. I get to the ball, bend over, pick it up, flip it around to see the logo, and…
Boom. In my face.
After all that took place, I just KNEW my fortune cookie was going to have the kind of wisdom in it that can explain these things. Something like, “Hurricanes will make you bald, but they will leave your facial hair to capture the stories of men in overalls.”
What it actually said was, “Deep faith destroys fear.”
What an anti-climax.