“No,” she said.
He reached across the table for her hand and tried to slide the ring on.
She pulled her hand out of his.
“No,” she said again.
They sat for a while. Neither touched their wine or spaghetti.
People at other tables tried not to stare, but they did.
She was the first to leave.
He waited a bit before he got up and left.
“No charge,” whispered the maitre’d.
He nodded, and got into his car.
“They bought it?” she asked.
He nodded, grinning.
“Good. Now give me my ring back. And don’t forget your wallet again.”
Tag: silly
Paleface
Tonto sick of getting shot at.
This time, Tonto hire crazy paleface to put on white hat and ride white horse to draw fire from Tonto.
Hiring Mexican to wear black and ride black horse was mistake, even if Mexican work cheap and use sword.
He go back to Mexico, call himself Zorro now.
Do he once thank Tonto? Hell no.
Tonto sick of getting shot at.
Tonto just want to make enough to go East and write poetry. Maybe wear black beret instead of dead animal on head.
For now, just follow crazy paleface.
From behind. Far, far behind.
Phone
I left my phone somewhere.
It’s not in the bathroom or conference room.
So, I borrowed another phone and ran the Find My Phone app.
Oh. Wait.
It’s in the back seat of the car I got a ride to the restaurant in.
I’ll see them at work on Monday.
This means I’ll be without my phone all weekend long. The longest I’ve been without it since… since…
Stop worrying. I’ll be fine without it. I can go a whole weekend… without… a… phone…
I’ll just go and get a new one right now.
Eh, I needed an upgrade anyway.
Pick Up Artist
People ask me all the time how to pick up girls, and I tell them that you should lift from the legs and not the back.
Unless they’re so big, you need a forklift. But you don’t want to pick up those porkers, right?
Any you can pick up with tweezers are going to be a real cheap date because they don’t eat nothin.
Some, you can pick up with a radio. Those are probably way out of your league. Especially the ones on Howard Stern.
And if you can pick em up on a Geiger Counter, run like hell!
Angels Union
The Angels Union Hall was filled to the rafters with angry Heavenly Hosts.
Despite famines, floods, and wars, the humans multiplied rapidly.
“And yet, God hasn’t created more of us to handle the workload,” growled Gabriel.
“Lucifer’s hiring devils and demons,” said Moroni. “Why can’t God hire more angels?”
“What about saints?” asked Michael. “They help, right?”
The boos shook the stained glass windows.
“Ass kisser!” shouted Gabriel.
Eventually, the angels voted to strike.
Some scabs continued to cross the lines. Moroni and Gabriel whispered into the ears of false prophets.
God didn’t give a shit. “Let ’em worship cats.”
Lose My Keys
I lose my keys a lot.
Enough that I had to buy a new lock for my front door that works with an app on my phone.
Except that there’s one thing I lose more often than my keys: my phone.
I had to go buy another lock which was voice-activated, but I caught a cold and lost my voice.
Fingerprint scanners are great, unless you burn your finger cooking dinner.
And retina scanners don’t work on the blind.
Still, that’s the route I took.
I just wish that my seeing eye dog Rufus would learn to use the scanner.
The Architect
The architect was known for designing absurdly tall buildings, but he was secretly afraid of heights.
Ribbon-cutting ceremonies for his completed designs were always held in the lobby, but he would find a reason to duck out before the trip to the observation deck or sky lobby took place.
“It’s past my bedtime,” he’d say.
His final design was so tall, critics joked that you could throw someone from the roof and be tried and convicted for murder before the victim hit the ground.
The architect was horrified, and threw out his Tinkertoys.
His mother grounded him for a week.
The Original Fake
Let me tell you about the greatest comedian in all of Second Life.
Her jokes aren’t original at all, if you can call them that.
It’s just funny shit she’s ripped off some site that’s ripped them off of Buzzfeed or Twitter or Reader’s Digest.
She reads them in her roadhouse comedy club, which is a copy of a place that this guitarist chick once ran, but with a bunch of posters and stuff plastered over it.
So, how is she the greatest?
Because she’s made a complete joke out of you who believe that, and I can’t stop laughing.
Bang, went the markets
Stock exchanges conducted their business on trading floors, where men swapped slips of paper.
As computers were hooked up to the exchanges, the traders were replaced by computer programmers.
The faster the computers got, the more complex the programs needed to be.
Days became seconds.
Seconds became microseconds.
Microseconds became nanoseconds.
Eventually, the computers got so fast, it was the cable and distance that added delay. Computers were crammed together in a tight pack.
And then, a trade happened before the order.
The computers vanished into the past, waging massive financial battles.
Bigger… bigger… and then…
Bang, went the markets.
Dinner Lingo
“Diner lingo” is a code that waitresses use to call in orders to the kitchen.
The Waffle House has their own lingo for how to prepare hash browns.
For instance, “smothered” means to add onions, while “covered” means to add cheese.
Get your hash browns fancy enough, and your order starts to sound like a chapter out of a Mickey Spillane pulp detective novel.
Once, I slipped in “taken out back and beaten with a lead pipe” and the chef went missing for a week.
His body turned up in the river, while I’m still waiting for my goddamned coffee.