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tales of something simple - blonde

i believe

Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.

all types of chaos

dude...where's my car?

I was charged with the task of picking up donuts and bagels for some random work celebration.  I just want to note that 1) No one ever gives a shit what we are celebrating.  They just want food and they want it for free.  2) I offer to pick up the food because I am already chronicaly late for work and this totally deems as an acceptable excused (it definately tops “Well, I saw that it was 7:15 but I hit the snooze button anyway because I just didn’t give  a a crap”).

So I pull into Dunkin Donuts in Brian’s navy Honda Accord, as for whatever reason on this day I could not drive my own car.  I lock it manually (I’m not cool enough to have a key with the fancy buttons that do this electronically) and head inside.  I wait painfully long for a dozen donuts and a dozen bagels with all the fixin’s and head back to the car.  As I am opening the car door, I realize there is are scratches by the back door and tire, the same color as the rocks in our driveway.  I put all my crap in the passenger seat (my purse, briefcase, donuts, bagels and bag of cream cheeses, knives and napkins), and start licking my fingers and feverishly trying to buff out out the scratches.  I curse my husband in my head, give up and slide into the drivers seat.  Just as I am about to put the key into the ignition, I notice something.  He has dark interior?  I look around, wait.

This isn’t my car.

THIS ISN’T MY FUCKING CAR!

I quick, grab my thousand bags and skidaddle out of there like a bat out of hell.  I realize, MY CAR, is parked a quiet 2 spaces away, looking at me saying “Hey, dumbass!  Over here!”

And just as I get into MY car, I see a nice man walking out of Dunkin Donuts and slide into the seat that my ass was just occupying.

I should have farted in it before I left.  Now that would of fucked with him.


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