Down In The Dumps

(at food court)

Me: (dumps trash)

Me: “Oh crap! I just dumped trash into the recycling slot. I didn’t see the signs until it was too late.”

Custodian: “Don’t worry, it all goes to the same place.”

Me: “What.”

Custodian: “What.”

Abide… but quickly

(at drive-thru window)

Fast Food Window Guy: “That will be $8.57 please.”

Me: “Here’s my debit card.”

FFWG: “Hey… you know who you look like?”

Me: “I have a guess.”

FFWG: “Yeah… The Dude. You look just like The Dude, man.”

Me: “Yes. Strong similarity.”

FFWG: “Cool. I bet you get that a lot.”

Me: “I do, actually. Very often. Especially when I’m wearing a bathrobe.”

FFWG: “Haha! Bathrobe, right. That’s sweet.”

Me: “Sweet.”

(long pause)

Me: “Can I have my food?”

FFWG: “Oh… yeah.”

Long John Shivers

Please, keep me in your prayers. I’m battling a very serious physical condition. I… I just had… Long John Silvers.

Yes, I know better, but I had a moment of weakness that I will now pay for in hours of agony.

In honor of my semi-annual memorial trip to Long John Silver’s House of Pain and Poor Decisions (oh god kill me now), I propose a set of new slogans:

1) Long John Silver’s — where every meal is served with a free side of regret.

2) Try us again! Yes, we’re still using the same grease! No, not the same type of oil… the exact same batch of grease.

3) Hey… You loved it when you were a kid. Come find out how much smarter you are now. Or aren’t, apparently.

4) Long John Silver’s — because, frankly, what’s more exciting than not knowing if you’re going to make it through the night?