Wednesday, April 11, 2007

These are a few of our scary things

(Please note that I do not intend to offend anyone ever at anytime with anything I say. That said I'm sure I've offended many of you over the years with my tirades. I guess I'm just naturally a very offensive person, deal with it!)

There are a few things in this world that are naturally terrifying: the amount of debt we carry from month to month, the prospect of Dick Cheney being leader of the free world, endives served for dinner (vile vegetable). There are also natural monsters among the human family; Hitler, Idi Amin, Stalin, and anybody who puts a Wayans brother in a movie.

With this natural terror in mind please let me set the stage for you.

The Place: Sears Home Improvement Section
The Time: Sometime after work
The People: Wife and Husband and....well you'll see.

(This is where the creepy music starts if you're reading this like a 1950s radio show. Also if you are familiar with 1950s radio shows you might be a nerd and I might have some Suspense vinyls I could sell you (really a great radio program))

It was a cold damp day, like most New York days. Wife and I had just left our favorite watering hole following an after work aperitif. She looked stunning in her black evening gown. Her hair pulled up behind her ears and her glasses tilted at an angle gave off the sophisticated air of a high school librarian. Indeed she was the epitome of every man's dream at that moment.

With a lilt in her step we walked the brown stones of Albany to our car. Knowing I was a man living a charmed life, upon whom the gods obviously smiled I did as all gentlemen should. I opened every door, lifted her lithe form over every puddle, and shot dead every attempted mugger.

Nothing could mar the perfection of that day. Indeed I felt a giant among men, or at least I did until we met THE MONSTER. For that day I made a tragic mistake and assumed that perfection would not be marred by a simple errand.

So we went to Sears to pick up some lawn and garden materials. Wife on my arm I surveyed the crowd with casual indifference until I saw the horror that awaited us. I knew that Wife couldn't handle it if caught unawares. So in my most gallant manner I nudged her and said quite simply "Don't look now, but something wicked this way comes."

Here in was my undoing, never use a Shakespearean reference to indicate for no sooner did I say this than Wife cast her pure and helpless glance to the oncoming menace. Terrified, Wife screamed bloody murder and leapt into my arms, demanding I bear her away from this evil.

Sadly at that instance my own terror took hold and shoving Wife to the ground I ran for it as best as my little legs could carry my over fat body, leaving her for the terror that lurked selling vinyl siding. For in face of such a monster not even the bravest of men could stand.

What did she see asks the reader? Something terrifying beyond human description, THIS ALBINO SALESMAN!

Or at least one that looked like him. Might I add that while the details of this story might differ somewhat from what happened, there was actually an albino salesmen and Wife did jump and let out a little squeal of terror when she saw him.

Song of the day: Well I'm going to hate myself here but I love this song for some reason. I think it's because Hasidic Jewish Reggae is a genre that I have neglected in this blog. Enjoy.


GK said...

So a question on the running away thing. Did you manage to run faster than Johns bicycle top speed of 5.3 MPH?


dastew said...

Poor John. I just hope he was able to get away from that tree sloth.

John J said...

You guys make baby bikers cry

Panini said...

:D How sad! Poor guy. I love albinos.

La Yen said...

What--you think albinos shouldn't work? You think that they should just sit home all day and watch Passions? I take umbrage--UMBRAGE! And I think that they like being called pigmentally-challenged. And I would MUCH rather have an albino salesman than an albino Gyno. But I WOULD enjoy refering to him as the albino gyno, so maybe I will take that judgement back.