Wednesday, September 30, 2009

The Spoon Deluxe and Other Stories

Have a Good Day

"Have a good day!" The man shouted at me.
"Could I get some ketchup?" He moved from the window and put two ketchups in the bag and shoved it at me.
"Have a good day!"
The woman working the till handed me my change and my receipt at the same time the man punched the food out the window. I had to figure out how to put the change away and put the food down at the same time.
"Have a good day!" The man yelled at me again.
"I'm trying!" I shouted back. The change went all over the floor of the car and the food dropped to my lap as I tried to set the Coke in the cup holder.
"HAVE A GOOD DAY!" The man shouted and tried to physically push my car with his hands flat cross the roof out of the drive thru.
"Please, I'm not having a good day right now!" I pleaded with him as I spilled the Coke all over the passenger's seat and hit the gas and launched the car into the intersection on a red light.

The Check for Over

"Can I write it for over?" I asked the woman at the Fred Meyer.
"Of course, how much?"
"How much can I write over?"
"OK, 50."
She looked at my groceries.
I had purchased some beer, condoms, and cigarettes.
"What's the fifty for?"
"The girl."

What Can I Say

The other day I was thinking about how I'm not good at speaking to other human beings. This tormented me, as I have a job, family, and friends.
At this point in life I should know how to talk.
But I don't.
So, this morning I saw a guy say to another guy "What can I say?"
He was asked if he had a good weekend.
I started thinking, that's gonna be my full conversation for now on.
Boss: How was your weekend?
Coworker: Are you done with that edit?
Friend: Do you still have my basketball?
All can be remedied with "What can I say?"
I'm typing it right now on a resume. No address, accomplishments, or work history; just a big, bold, in 40 point: WHAT CAN I SAY?
The only problem is when I want something. I can't try to borrow money from people by simply asking "What can I say?"
Or can I?
I figure that the people who know me know what I'm after without having to ask. So, if I just give them a shit eating grin and say "What can I say?" and hold out my hand – Bingo!
But then, what about drive thru restaurants? I can't order by saying "What can I say?"
Or can I?
I just thought about it and no, I couldn't order drive thru with "What can I say?"
Back to the drawing board!

Back in Bethlehem

"Hey, do you know Jesus?"
The shopkeeper looked up from the fish he was eating with a spoon (in the olden days, the knife was super expensive and the fork had yet to be invented).
"Jesus of Nazareth?"
"The very same!" The pilgrim said.
"Yes, of course. He was a carpenter, I understand he's a religious man."
"He is the son of God!"
"Really? Well, that's great. He was a nice fella."
"Nice fella? He was the son of God!"
The shopkeeper put his shoebox of fish (plates were also really expensive, but Nike boxes were really cheap).
"OK, son. I understand that you believe he's the son of God. And maybe he is, but to me, he's just Jesse the carpenter."
The pilgrim became angry. "Just a carpenter! That's like saying a knife is just a knife!"
"Well, to be honest…I don't know how to say this…he wasn't a very good carpenter." The shopkeeper looked down at his hands.
"No a very good – wait – what?" The pilgrim was thrown off.
"It's true. He made this." The shopkeeper produced a large block of wood with a stick taped to it (do not ask me why they have tape or Nike shoes back in the olden days. You weren't there.)
"What the hell is that?" The pilgrim asked.
"It's supposed to be a spoon."
"A spoon?!" The pilgrim was stunned. "Jesus made that?"
"That's correct."
"Well, Christ. Maybe I need to rethink this."
"Well, just because he's bad at carpentry…"
The pilgrim looked stunned again. "Bad at carpentry? Bad at carpentry? That's a block of wood with a stick taped to it! If the son of…if that man thinks that can be passed off as a spoon!" The pilgrim was red faced.
"Now this is carpentry." The shopkeeper produced a fork.
"What…what is that?" The pilgrim's face lit up.
"It's called a…spoon deluxe." The shopkeepers eyes lit up and he licked his lips while he stared down at the wooden fork.
"It's…what are the tines for?"
"For poking your food so that it can be easily removed from bone and lifted to your mouth from your shoebox."
"Who made that?"
The shopkeeper looked around, then pointed at the red man with the horns growing out of his head.
"Him." The shopkeeper's finger shook as he pointed.
"And what is his name?"
"His name is…………………………I don't know his name."
"Well, can I meet him."
"Sure. Hey, guy! Guy!" The shopkeeper yelled at the red man.
The red man stood up. "Yes?"
"This pilgrim wants to meet you. He likes your spoon deluxe."
"He does!" The red man bounded over and shook the pilgrim's hand.
"It's very nice to meet you." the pilgrim said. "Where can I get a spoon deluxe?"
The red man exclaimed "I can make you one right now!"
The pilgrim put his hands together and let his fingers tap one another.
7 minutes later…
"How did you produce a spoon deluxe so quickly?" Asked the pilgrim.
The red man answered "Well, I simply take a spoon, and then shave into the base with my horns twice and viola!" He produced the spoon deluxe.
"You know" said the pilgrim "I noticed your tongue is forked."
"Yes." Said the red man.
"I'm just saying, that's pretty weird. Anyway, how much for this spoon deluxe? Clever name, by the way."
The red man scratched his head. "Well, I'd say your sole would do it."
And with that, the pilgrim handed the red man his fish and left the store. "Wait. What the hell am I gonna do with this spoon deluxe now that I don't have fish?"
And that is how the story of Satan and ironic punishment and soul selling started.
Tell a friend.

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