It was an amazing throw.

May 28, 2009

“You ever feel like, if your life was a movie, you’d be at that point where you were spending all your time unshaven, on your couch, wearing mismatched socks, ignoring phone messages, realizing the only thing in your fridge is six year old baking soda, watching Saved By The Bell:The College Years, and finally starting to understand country music lyrics, until a friend comes over and forces you to shower and go to a bar?”

“I guess…” she replied, looking at his socks.

“Can I tell you a story?” he asked.

“I’m kind of in a rush and–”

“It won’t take long.”  He assured.

“Uhm. OK…”

“I was a big shot advertising guy. I was at the top of my game. And I had been for a while. I know that I look young. I’m in my mid thir– early… late twenties. This was like any other pitch meeting…

I stared the client in the eyes. I smiled. I was confident.

My boss, standing in the corner, smiled too. He had seen that look in my eye before. He knew that a home run was coming.

“So, how are we going to sell more hamburgers?” The client asked the room.

“I can answer that with one word… complete customization.” I smiled broadly.

“Complete customization?”

“With so many fast food–”

“Good food prepared quickly,” the client interrupted.

“With so many options for good food prepared quickly,” I continued, “we need a way to differentiate you from the competition. And what we’ve come up with is… let people put their own toppings on. Anything they want. And the slogan is… Are you ready for this?”

“I think so,” the client replied.

“Put whatever you want between our buns.”

I waited for the applause. The “you did it again!”s. But…

*crickets*

“Could I see you in my office for a moment?” my boss asked, taking me by the arm and half-dragging me out of the room.

As soon as he closed the door to his office behind us, “Ignoring the obvious questions: Is that even hygienic? Isn’t that from a Seinfeld episode? PUT WHATEVER YOU WANT BETWEEN OUR BUNS?”

“Yes…”

“Were you kidding” he asked.

I wasn’t.

“I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, I’m going to have to let you go.”

“Home for the afternoon to watch ESPN Classic?” I asked.

“Pack up your stuff and leave”

“They are showing the Doug Flutie throw from college!”

But he was already gone back to the meeting.

So I went to clear out my desk. It didn’t take long. A framed picture of my gorgeous girlfriend got placed in a small cardboard box, along with a half eaten Crunchie bar, a semi-ironic red Swingline stapler, a copy of The New Yorker, and a squeezable stress ball.

I didn’t have to wait long in front of the building for my bus to come along. I got on it. Nothing interesting happened there, so I don’t know why I’m telling you this part.

When I arrived home, my girlfriend was standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips. That is never a good sign.

“Hi.” I offered.

“I’m pretty. I’m smart, right?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” I said, still holding my box in front of me.

“I’m a good cook. I’m sweet. I’m a catch…”

“… and release,” I mumbled.

It was at that point that I fully gathered just how serious she was and how unimpressed she was with my obvious wit.

I hadn’t seen her look that mad since our first date. That was when I told her that, “Your voice is lovely. If you did books on tape, I’d listen to every single one… and masturbate.”

That… didn’t go over well.

I tried to explain that I was kidding. And that I make jokes like that when nervous.

Somehow she agreed to a second date.

Back to her raging and me holding a box.

“You’ve never been the best boyfriend. I’ve accepted that. You have horrible fashion sense.  You unspool the toilet paper over the top. You threw a dart through my college diploma. Was the diploma close to your dart board?”

“Not really.”

“Where was the dartboard?” she asked.

“In another room.”

“And?”

“In our neighbour’s apartment…”

“Yes. So for those things, and so many more, I think we should break up.”

I searched for words.

“At least,” she continued. “I hope you learned something from dating me.”

“Yeah… you’ve been cautionary tail” were the words I found.

But didn’t say.

I didn’t figure the tale/tail thing would work so well if I had to spell it out.

T-A-I-L?

Nevermind.

“I’ll be back for my stuff tomorrow while you are at work.” She grabbed her bag and walked towards the door.

I stood, staring and still holding my box.

She looked back over her shoulder. “And you were bad in bed.” The door closed behind her.

I barely blinked. Then the bottom fell out of my box. The items landed on the floor. My stress ball hit my toe and rolled across the room…

He shook his head. A little wore out from telling the story.

“She said I was bad in bed! Can you imagine? Because… ha… I know which side the biscuit is buttered on, you know?”

“Uhm… sir. I just wanted to sell you some girl scout cookies.” said the eight year old, with a terrified look in her eyes.

“Oh yeah. Two boxes of thin mints, please.”

He passed her some cash and took his cookies.

The little girl beat a hasty retreat down the hall. At the stairway, she met a little red headed girl in the same uniform.

“I sold fifteen boxes! How did you do?” the red head asked.

“Two.”

“You only sold two? What happened?”

“Adults are fucked.”

“I hear that.” the red head replied as they started walking down the steps.

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8 Responses to “It was an amazing throw.”

  1. Caitlyn said

    So let’s go back to Brandy’s post about what girls want, where half the responses revolve around making us laugh.

    Based on that theory alone, you’ll have at least 23 new girlfriends after they read this post.

  2. shine said

    Girl Scouts teach little girls such important life lessons. Like how to tune out the crazy man’s stories (that comes in handy on many a first date)…and how to get him to buy things. And how to wear short skirts to get what you want.

  3. Danielle said

    Great! I love the use of tail, but in conversation it would, unfortunately, need spelled out.

  4. your stories always make my day.

  5. BS said

    Dude didn’t get a box of Samoas? He must be in a dark, dark place.

  6. Gramps said

    If I had a nickel for every time that happened to me…

  7. MissE said

    mwahahahahahahaha.

    Thanks, Peter.
    I needed that.

  8. Christina said

    haha… good story

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