A friend is moving to the area and needed a bed so I’ve been combing Craigslist for a reasonably priced queen-sized bed set and tonight found one. The dealings went down via text message and at 8:00 he asked when I’d pick it up, I said after 9:00 and around 7:30 I began a round of Mann vs. Machine which took me until 8:50. Then, rather than shower, I decided to bullshit in Teamspeak until I was nearly late, threw on my non-exercise clothing and gunned it to Horsham to pick up the set.

I had been walking quickly and sweating quite a bit so there was an immediate sweat stain on my shorts where my the sweating was strongest, i.e. my crotch and it looked like I had wet myself. I parallel parked my dad’s truck and was met by the man selling the pieces who was a special type of plastered.

Me: So why are you selling this stuff?
Him: Lost my job.
Me: What did you do?
Him: Warehouse work. Until they brought in these… Asians do the job as contractors.
Me: I’m sorry to hear that.
Him: You know, everything’s going that way.
Me: What way?
Him: Contractors.
Me: Yep. If it makes you feel better about selling this for 25% its original price, I’m unemployed.
Him: It does. What’s your name?
Me: Terry.
Him: I’m George. If you ever need anything, call me. You seem like a good guy and I’m glad to have you as a brother. You should take this end table, I want you to have it.
Me: Sure…

This man was profoundly white.

I considered adding a like/dislike button to posts.  After investigating, I found something a little fancier that let people reply with moods called MoodThingy. At a Japanese language site that used it, I clicked on an article at random and started playing around with it. I registered a vote and decided to see what I had done after throwing the site into Google Translate.  Apparently I had been “amused” by the article  “67 years Since Hiroshima And Nagasaki bombings”. Good job, Terry.


Me: I’ve found a new way to prepare steak that you might be interested in.
Boss: I like steak.  Go on.
Me: It’s called sous vide, and I think if I use some lab equipment I can make amazing steaks at work cheaply.
Boss: Not on your life.
Me: Why not?
Boss: Against SOP, every device in this lab comes with an implicit guarantee that it will not be used to prepare food.
Me: But it’s steak.
Boss: SOP says no.
Me: If an SOP told you to jump off a bridge would you?
Boss: Yes.

At least he’s consistent.s

Single refill in diner and a bus person that was all over that shit. World’s dullest ice skates and an uninterested rink attendant.

I drove to Albany to visit Pat and Clara who are always kind hosts to me. For instance, the restaurant we hit for lunch had a single refill policy and both ceded theirs to me. After lunch, Clara and I went ice skating and she cringed at my skate application method. Apparently, cocking your ankle at a 45° angle and then slamming down with the weight of your body to get a skate on isn’t proper form. Clara and I were 50% of the rinks occupants and the counter person appeared to be on Valium but we had a grand time sliding sideways on skates last sharpened during the Reagan administration.

That evening after an episode of Top Gear Clara and I retracted the recliner portions of our respective section of the sofa at the same time and for a moment we each saw that we had our legs sticking straight out. We locked eyes, I narrowed mine, she narrowed hers, and a game of “who can hold their legs out the longest” began. Clara is a leggy gal and I don’t know if that helped or hindered her. I do distance running and my quadraceps are the size of tree trunks and I don’t know if that helped or hindered me. Pat got bored and started doing things like putting cat treats at the end of Clara’s feet and having his cat walk out to get them. Pat then upped the stakes:

Pat: Who wants ice cream?
Clara: I do.
Me: I guess you’ll just have to put your legs down and go get some.
Clara: Never, honey would you pick me up some ice cream when you go out?
Pat: Not this time.
Clara: Damn. Shall we call it a draw? How long has it been?
Me: About 30 minutes.
Clara: Ok, on 3. 1 – 2 -3 *we both drop our legs* Good job, Terry, but realize that tomorrow I’ll be able to walk.

Me: Do you mind if I just take a roll?
Cashier: Rolls are free with food.
Me: But I’m not buying anything else.
Cashier: Buy something else then.
Me: How about saying it came with the breakfast I had this morning?
Cashier: But you’re not buying breakfast now.
Me: Well, I’m here to pick up the roll I forgot from breakfast.
Cashier: Breakfast doesn’t come with rolls.
Me: Then how much is just a roll?
Cashier: 50 cents.
Me: No.
Cashier: 25 cents.
Me: Fine. *pulls out a quarter, the amount I had planned on paying if it came to this*
Cashier: Alright, 25 cent roll *hits register buttons* that’ll be 27 cents.
Me: *holding quarter* Nothing is ever simple is it? *Hands cashier a 20*

I now have enough change for 74 more rolls…

Since September, I’ve been getting my hair cut monthly or so rather than doing it myself every few weeks with a quarterly touch up from a barber.  Normally, I walk in to The Three Barbers on Bridgetown Pike, get John, ask for a Caesar cut, avoid chit-chat as I just want my damn haircut, and pay $15.00 for a cut and tip.  Today was different:

John: *begins prepping me for a haircut* You’ve come in recently, haven’t you?
Me: Yeah, probably around Thanksgiving.
John: That’s more often than normal for you.  Don’t you do something with computers?
Me: Not really, I do R&D work with medical devices.  I use computers but I wouldn’t call it computer work.
John: *Raises scissors to my head* So you probably couldn’t explain the difference between LCD and plasma TVs.
Me: I can.
John: *lowers scissors* Go on.

John asked me probably four or five technology questions and each time I gave the answer he just held his comb and scissors and listened intently for my response.  When we went to ask the next one, I cracked.

John: Can I ask you another computer question?
Me: Sure, but first let’s make a deal.
John: What’s that?
Me: How about in exchange for me answering, you cut my damn hair.
John: *looks at scissors that he’d been holding up for about 10 minutes* Ok.

The plasma television at work arrived quickly.  Amazon made sure of that.  The TV was unboxed quickly.  My area supervisor made sure of that.  The TV was mounted somewhat quickly.  Facilities made sure of that.  The TV was connected through a slow and tedious process that involved me eventually stepping in and saying “you’re busy men, how about I just do this?”  Computer support made sure of that.

Friend of My Dad: I hear you’re getting rid of your spare TV tuner.
Me: Yep.
Friend of My Dad: How much?
Me: No cost.
Friend of My Dad: Then you can’t sell it.
Me: I don’t intend to, I just want to get rid of it.
Friend of My Dad: But you need to charge something, then.
Me: I just want to see it gone.
Friend of My Dad: How about $25?
Me: … sure.

Obscurantism appears to be profitable.

Me: I can’t use this material, it’s expired.
Coworker: Not necessarily…
Me: It’s clearly passed the date, I’m going to throw it out.
Coworker: It’s clearly unused, so it’s probably better than something that’s newer.
Me: Ok, that statement is so dumb, I’m going to ask you to repeat it in 30 seconds.  If you can with a straight face, I’ll use it.
*30 seconds later*
Coworker: Can’t do it.
Me: Good.