I manage a restaurant, it's called The Fan Restaurant & Sports Bar, I work long hours. To play tricks with myself, a year so back I would treat myself to a 6 inch round chocolate chip cookie at the end of the day....if I actually made it thru the day.. So every night I'd have one of these scrumpious cookies. If I was heading home, I would heat it up in the kitchen with the toaster oven & I gotta tell ya..... There ain't nothin' better than a warm chocolate chip cookie at 2 am.
If I stayed overnite, I would have to eat it as it was... Still not bad... After all.. It's a Chocolate Chip Cookie...
Driving home one night late, cell phone plugged in to charge, Sirius radio tuned to Howard 100, Chocolate cookie on my right as my passenger, (I did entertain thoughts of buckling the seat belt to protect it, but opted to cover the plastic bag holding the prize with the day's newspaper). Planning my only day off, I had decided I needed another pair or two Levi's, I'm fortunate to be able to wear them for work, but they don't last as long if you don't rotate them.. So as I'm dodging late nite grazing deer & caffeine driven CT State Troopers lurking behind the next bend, I planned my trip to Woodbury Commons.
Do you know about Woodbury Commons? It's an outlet mall, where the professonal shopper does extremely well. Families plan 2 day trips in minivan caravans to shop for the holidays. I try to zip up the NY Thruway, get my garb & scat.. They have a Levi outlet, so it's important to try things on and inspect them for glaring defects... Then head back south in a hurray...
By now I'm cruising west on the Merritt Parkway, confidant that the upcoming day is planned. I feel like a reward... Looking to my passenger seat, I remember the prize, my chocolate chip cookie who is eagerly waiting to be warmed up on a little metal rack, then devoured in a sweet tasting frenzy. I tell myself to wait... and for a moment I have slayed the stomach churning beast. A few more exits, a rest area, another grazing deer.... my mouth starts to water, I'm starting to get what the Truckers call "White Line Fever", except the only images in my windshield look remarkably like chocolate chip cookies. I nervously look to the seat, "cookie is still there"... I continue on my way...
Side note: I hate to eat in my car when driving at night, you always seem to drop some on you, & you never notice until you get out of the car, and lettuce or crumbs topple off your lap as get out of the car. It's a little embarassing if you park near someone..
A few more miles, an occassional yawn... I can't take it anymore.. I'm eating the Cookie!
I slow down my speed to concentrate on eating the cookie, and as I drive by certain blind spot I see a Trooper waiting in the shadows. What a site he saw... Interior light on, the plastic hoop handles of the bag resting around my ears, like a thoroughbred's feedbag, I carefully bite ino my prize. Using my lips, that even Mick Jagger would be proud, I'm encompassing the edges of the cookie with my stretched lips to prevent the small crumb like particles from dropping ...and wasting precious cookie... My Fall-Safe is the bag that is looped around my ears, my quick thoughts assure me that Mr. Spock would have the best ears for this type of eating.. A mere minute or so later... my cookie is gone & I am confidant I protected myself from dropping cookie crumbs.
I arrive in NJ safe, full & ready for sleep....
The next day, I head to the Bagel Shop, to see my friends & shoot the sh*t about whatever over a cup of coffee. It's summer time so I'm in my shorts, my legs look like bleached Hotel sheets or maybe a shade lighter, but it's the summer so what the heck. I stop home and tell my wife I'm heading to Woodbury, she says she could use a pair of jeans, but doesn't really want to go. I assure her, that I will look for her.
I jumped in my car, white legged & shorted for my quest for jeans. I get to the outlet, and find parking, which 6 months before Santa Season, is still extremely challenging. I head in the Levi outlet and decide to look for my wifes jeans first... I do a mental rundown of the size & style she wanted. I'm a good husband I really want to find a pair that she will love.
A side note once again: I have never been to Africa, I haven't really been anywhere, not lately, but have you ever seen a giraffe? Me neither, but these are docile beautiful works of natures art. Besides their skyscraping necks, they have tremendously long legs, & beautiful spots. My wife's neck is normal, and she doesn't have any spots, (not for at least 20 more years before the liver spots appear), but she does have the legs to rival that of a giraffe. Now, don't get angry with me, her legs are much more shapely & toned, but for for sheer height... they're right there...
So... back to the Levi store... Searching for a good 45 minutes, but being unsuccessful, due to the length of the pants for which I'm searching. I finally ask the salewoman, who is leering behind me, I think to myself, "she probably thinks I'm looking for womans jeans for myself", I tend to over analyze... It's probably nothing.. I head over to the mens department & spend another 20 or so minutes picking out 4 or 5 good jean prospects, I will have to try them on... as I have a weird shape myself, one that is NOT comparable to an animal, no animal is this unfortunate...
With my fresh pairs I head to the dressing room, you have to try them on in an outlet store because they all fit little different here due to the quality control, but not before looking at some belts, I make a note to stop and check the belts again when I cash out... I walk thru a bunch of other shoppers, some are looking at me, I have that face, I always look like someone else, so I'm kind of used to it. Once in my dressing room, I drop my shorts, and hang them on the hook, so that my money & keys don't fall out.. It was then I noticed the horror. All over the back of my shorts, on the seat of the garment are big dark melted chocolate stains. Hot flashes immediately hit like gut punches... Sweat beats up on my forehead, err check that... fivehead... I am mortified, I've been walking around in the store for over an hour with big dark stains on the seat of my shorts.... At this point I want to run outside the dressing room and preach to all... "It's ok...It's just chocolate" but I think for a moment and realize it will just bring more attention to myself... I quickly try a few jeans on, sweat still pouring off me like Niagara Falls, I scurry to the register, bypassing the belts, damn I could really use another belt too.
After I pay I carry the bag behind covering up the stained shorts, like I'm a shy model in a miniskirt, passing a construction site... Nervously smiling I make my way back to the car & proceed to wipe off my car seat of any possible remnants, although I'm convinced it's all on the shorts... I drive back home, slunk down low in the seat, in case any of those Levi patrons are driving my way....
Once home I scrub the seat again with windex & paper towel. I change into clean shorts and continue on with my daily errands. Later that nite, though still mortified, I get ready to take my wife for dinner, I change into my pants, I notice the second pair of shorts I changed into, still are covered with chocolate. What is happening to me, is this some type of powerful gallactic monster that won't go away. I can't fight it... It's... just.. too...strong........
Right before I take my wife out for dinner, I'm still scrubbing the seat of my car, I place a towel which I have snuck out of the house. Cover my seat and hope that no one at the restaurant points and says "that's the guy that had poop all over his pants today"...
The moral of the story, don't eat a cookie in the car late at nite... or be perpared for the consequences....
4 comments:
hahaha hun dont feel bad i had the same thing happen to me w/ a strawberry poptart that the kids were eating!!...we all know what that looks like!! i was in the middle of target and went to the dressing room to try on dresses and of course i check out my my assets befor doing anything else and there it was, needless to say i could have have died in that dressing room i didnt want to come out EVER lol
reminds me of the Seinfeld episode where Jerry get's the smell in his car that he can't get out. Great story.
You are a complete meat.
Don't think for a second that I'm buying into that chocolate chip cookie story. Those of us, who really know you, know you just concocted that long and involved yarn to mask your wet fart problem.
Post a Comment