Day 114: Oh, You Were Wondering

I’ve defended you against a number of poor false starts in order to deliver you this instead…

I’m looking at two red ball caps with the University of Oklahoma logo embroidered on them in the thickly threaded style you’re seeing alot these days.

“Can you tell the difference?” the sales guy asks. I don’t recall his name but he’ll mention it at least two more times and give me his card so I don’t really have to bother. He’s a local boy by the haircut and the poorly made over twang. He’s unusually invested in the pitch. I bet he’s the owner too.


“Put this one on.” He picks it up an hands it to me to try on. Obviously this is the one he’s selling and the other is the original. I don’t immediately notice anything, so whatever it is his companies done, they’ve done it well.


“Now try on the other.” The second is lighter. Maybe, softer in the drape of the dome. Negligible.

He’s smiling. He knows I can tell but that it’s not enough of a difference to matter. In his head, he’s boxing up a gross or more of these with my address on the shipping label.

It doesn’t show on my face that he’s got me curious, but he does. You don’t comparison sell anything unless you’re trying to be just like the competitor and aren’t. You’re hiding something: price, materials, workmanship.


“A little steep at our lowest minimum order. A buck fifty over these guys. But with price breaks at one and five thousand you get within twenty cents.” He’s hoping I like the honesty on the low end, but I don’t. They do this shit all the time to up sell you on the counts. They keep doing it ’cause it works so I can’t blame them much.

I pick up the heavier one and crush the bill to suit my tastes. He’ll let me have this one to keep so I might as well get it broken in.


“You can’t guess? Come on. Guess.” He’s over sells a bad pitch because he’s not gotten a better one yet. Which means he hasn’t sold any of these. I have to know why.


“Ahright. I’ll tell ya.” I knew he’d turn country on my eventually. I must look like someone that would bite. “They’re lined with a titanium mesh specially designed to foil the NSA’s brain reading equipment.”

“Ah hell. Get out.”

Word count: 428

Don’t Forget the Napkins

“I’ve just found out there are two types of people in the world: ones who eat taco drippings and ones who don’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There are two kinds of people: taco-dripping eaters and non-taco-dripping eaters.”

“Saying the same thing twice doesn’t help as much as you’d think.  What are taco drippings?”

“You know, lettuce, tomato, cheese, crackers, and other shit that falls out of a taco when you eat it?”

“Ok.  Crackers?”

“Shells.  Shell pieces, whatever.”


“Uh, meat, chicken, sauce…”

“No.  I meant continue explaining you newly discovered dichotomy.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You just divided the world into two categories of people…”

“Oh yeah.  Some people won’t eat the stuff that falls out of a taco.  Lettuce and that shit makes sense, but even the good stuff, the meat and cheese, they won’t eat that.  That’s messed up.”

“Some people just disregard the byproducts of life even if moments early those byproducts were entirely valid parts of the whole.  They can’t admit that random chance might separate the survivors from the cast-offs.  Even when the cast-offs are ‘the good stuff’.  It’s scary to consider that you might make the cut through no appreciation of your skills or ability.”

“Maybe they just don’t want their fingers dirty.”

Word count: 195

Day 55: Mr. and Mrs. Crazy

Dammit where’s the humor you ask. Not really sure. I consider myself rather funny in person. Though I’ll note that it’s a situational conversational sort of humor that plays mostly off the expectations of the audience that I won’t say something tactless to get a laugh. But I do.

In the following dialogue the names have been changed to protect the identities of myself and my wife.
Jane closes the exterior door in the master bedroom.

“I left that open to cool the room off,” Joe says. “It’s finally nice enough outside to get away with.”

“You weren’t going to leave it open all night were you?” asks Jane.

“I don’t know. What do you care? You used to live in a tent.”

“In the mountains. Far away from the crazies.”

“The crazies?” Joe asks.

“You know what I meant.”

Jane is nearly in bed. Joe is stripping off his shorts and crawling in next to her. Jane nods to the light on in the bathroom behind him, “You’re not expecting me to get that.”


“I wasn’t the last one in there.”

“Ugh, you could of mentioned that sooner.”  Joe thumps out of bed and turns off the light.  “That’s why I wanted the door open, so the crazies could come in here and turn off all our lights. And put my socks in the hamper. And close the closet door. And put the seat up every damn time. That’s what the crazy crazy people do you know.” He crawls back under the sheets with as much drama as possible.

Joe turns off the light and Jane say, “There’s definitely one crazy person in here.”

“Ohh, there’s for sure one crazy person in here,” Joe agrees.



“I love you.”

“You better.”

Word count: 270