Hello, P. Nuts. See what I did there. Once again, sorry for the silence. I had seven days from the day of hire to study for my life/health insurance exam and take the test. The test was yesterday (Friday for those not reading every day)…
I passed. I am now eligible for a South Carolina producer license. Does anyone need an annuity? Just kidding.
Normally, I go over the major headlines in my Wednesday post, but the news has been typically downtrodden and disconcerting. Aside from my successful test, here are two brief “happenings.”
SPOT REMOVER
A giraffe was born in a Tennessee zoo, without spots. It is the rarest form of giraffe. They asked the Internet for names, and here is my suggestion:
SPOT DEFY (say it quickly). Either that or Kaitlyn. Every girl is named Katelyn.
Below is a link to the actual most popular girl’s names for 2023. Thank you, Good Housekeeping.
https://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/parenting/a37668901/top-baby-girl-names/
YO, APOLLO
Actor Carl Weathers turned 76 this week. Weathers played professional football and had a prolific movie career. Action Jackson is one of my favorites, but he is most widely recognized for playing Apollo Creed in the Rocky Franchise. I have heard in an interview that one of Sylvester Stallone’s biggest regrets is killing off the Apollo character in Rocky IV. I was thinking Rhinestone or Stop Or My Mom Will Shoot. Happy birthday, Carl. Keep punching.
HUMOR – THREE STORIES
With the news providing little relief, I have decided to intersperse some humorous anecdotes every other Wednesday. I also get to work on my narrative chops. Topic today, the funny side of love.
PRAT FALL FAIL
During my senior year in high school, I was fortunate enough to be chosen as one of the MC’s of the annual NonTalent Talent Show, a three-hour variety show that emphasized the non-talented. I can also pinpoint the rehearsals as the point where my first serious romantic relationship solidified, but not without some embarrassment and pain.
The last rock band was cleaning off their equipment, and some of us were just hanging around deciding what to do after the rehearsal. One of those loiterers was the girl I enamored. I had no game, but I was quick-witted and I thought quickly on my feet. We were making small talk, and I did an impromptu prat fall to make her laugh. The stage was less than seamlessly veneered, and as I hit the stage floor, I felt a sharp stabbing pain in my butt.
I had to play it cool, so I jumped up and ignored the pain. We all got into one car, and I could not sit down in the seat. I asked to be dropped at my house, and I awkwardly looked in the mirror. I had a red mark on my ass, and some sort of shadow underneath the skin. I went to the walk-in clinic, and the doctor said it was a shard of wood. It had to be surgically removed, and it resembled one of those pencils you use for keeping score in mini-golf.
I met my friends later at the McDonald’s, and as I had told one person, everyone knew. I became the “butt” of everyone’s jokes, but I did get Julie’s attention and her heart.
CEMENTING MY LUST
This one is more about the consequences of lust.
I was working for Aetna Life Division in Hartford; I was in my early twenties, and it was a hot summer in the city. Some of my friends worked on the same floor, so we decided to take a walk down Pearl Street to a bar. As we were walking up, a striking, zaftig young lady was walking down on the other side of the street.
I was talking to my friends, but I was staring at the woman. It was obvious and lingering. With the instinctive sense that all women possess, she knew I was glaring, so she slowed down and turned to catch my gaze. Sounds promising.
Unfortunately, due to my hyper focus, I walked through yellow construction tape smack dab into a freshly poured concrete sidewalk. Completely non-plussed, I stopped in the middle, and stood there as the concrete slowly covered my loafers. Be careful with desire. It can ruin your shoes.
DITCHED
My last story occurred during my time on Match.com. I had reentered the dating scene after a long marriage, and I was really bad at it. One night, I drove down to the CT shore for a second date with Susan (name changed to protect the innocent). We had a lovely first date, but she had to work in the morning and had a teenage son waiting at home.
We set the second date close to her home again. Chivalry is not dead. This time it was a weekend, and we had made plans to howl at the moon. We parked at a restaurant and ate, then partied into the wee hours before returning to the restaurant parking lot.
I have to digress. One of the reasons I met women out and near their place is that, at the time, I had moved back in with my folks (a post for another day). Although I was in my forties, my mother still supervised my eating habits, and said she could not go to sleep until I was home safe. On many of my dates, my mother would text me after midnight to check up on me. Her missive always contained the phrase, “in a ditch?”
Back to my date. I wanted to impress the woman, so I drove the back way out of the driveway, and I drove next to a railway track. My eyes must have been playing tricks, as the road looked flat, but I drove straight into a gulley carved specifically to lay the tracks. We tried to extricate the car, but once again, Susan had to get home. I called the tow company, and they were able to tie a rope and pull my car from the ditch. It was close to two in the morning before I was out.
I still had an hour drive so I would not make it back to my mom’s until at least three. I got the routine text. “Are you in a ditch?” Thankfully, this time I had an an answer. Yes, yes I was.
Impaled buttocks, ruined shoes, structural car damage – Crazy Little Thing Called Loved (Queen)
Please share your “funny” an”crazy”love/dating stories
LOOOOVE and Laughter,
P.