What I’m about to tell you has a beginning I should say I’m embarrassed to admit and an ending I probably should’ve kept to myself. Before we continue, you need to know this was a long time ago and it’s the only stupid thing I’ve ever done. I’ve never cut my finger on a canned drink, had a gust of wind rip a car door out of my hand, realize I forgot my wallet after they rang me up, was ordered to pay restitution for something, watched a dog poop, burned the roof of my mouth, had a fish get away, turned the wrong way on a one-way street, knocked on the wrong door, got egg shell in the pan and I’ve never put my drawls on inside out. I roll through #life error free, the guy who nails it on the first try every time.
Well, except for this one time. Oh, I nailed it, unfortunately it was someone else’s property. Over the passed two decades, I’ve convinced myself they needed a #new mailbox anyway. Stupid, I know, take it easy on me, that’s just the ice breaker—this #story gets worse! I’m not even 18 yet, barely legal to drive and totally illegal to dri.. anything! It isn’t one of my prouder moments.
I de-cleated a mailbox. Then, simply by backing off of the de-cleated mailbox, another obstacle in the shape of a wooden fence ran into me. I was parked perpendicular to the length of an unfamiliar driveway, right in the middle of it, it’s dark outside, objects keep running into my bumpers and—hold on! I’d like to address that cover image, what do you think of it?
You may find comfort in knowing that on the free image sourcing sites, the results are scarce when you type “drink and drive.” 👍🏿 Drinking/driving, drive/drunk, drunk driver, etc. none of the popular phrases worked at Unsplash.com nor Pexels.com. Pixabay is the only free joint promoting drunk driving. What else could that picture possibly mean? And they only had two images to choose from, too, that pictured a set of car keys, both sets are Toyota keys which brings me to my question: Is that supposed to be a Toyota advertisement?! Is that a Chivas advertisement? I don’t get it?? What’s the promotion here? 🤔 The...
Truck
Is driving forward again on a vacant public street and, it’s late, it’s pitch black outside. It’s after midnight and I finally figured out where I am by covering one eye until I recognized the neighborhood in the middle—Stevie lives right here somewhere! ‘I’ll sleep this off at his place.’ I made it to Stevie’s. After a few intermittent falls, I successfully completed the stumble between my truck and the entry to their house. There’s a houseful of women holding the door open for me, they’re laughing hysterically while helping me stay on my feet. I made it inside the house. His wife, Kristen, she’s having one of those girl parties. Stevie heard the commotion and came out to see what was going on. I remember him telling his wife and her friends to leave me alone as he helped me walk down the hallway to an open bedroom where I was able to call it a night and sleep it off. It was probably four or five in the morning when I woke up to leave. Ouch—my head!
My shirt is not on my body, my pants are not pulled up, they did leave my underwear on me, though, that was nice of them, but I have about two cans of whipped cream and/or shaving cream emptied out, in their entirety, on my person! They definitely had my drawls down at one point because the contents from about an entire can is down there—it’s sticky! The same sticky substance is also evenly distributed between my belly button, chest, ears and my head—my whole.entire.head. ‘Smooth moves, girls!’ Yeah, they got me!
It was dark, I found a towel to clean myself up so I could leave, it was all over me, I mean my shirt! That towel wasn’t a towel, at all, that was my frikkin shirt! “Great!!” Now I’m sticky and I don’t have a shirt. I couldn’t wait to get home, I need a shower. ‘Rough night, you could say!’ I hopped off the bed and reached for the door but I conveniently fell against the door instead, head first, completing the maneuver by gracefully face planting into the carpeted floor, “uh!” Those clever, of legal drinking age, sex-toy party girls tied my shoes together. A lot! It was too dark to cut out all 50 knots they practiced on my shoe laces, I had to take my shoes off.
I made it to my truck, it was cold! I have no shirt because it’s soaked in whipped cream or something, I’m not wearing any shoes, I’m a mess, it’s about five in the morning, everything below my waist is sticky and all I want to do is go home—danget!! I need gas! The gas gauge is on E. This is 25 years ago, back when we didn’t have cell phones, could you imagine such a world? Selfie isn’t a word yet nor is instaprogram. And get this; no debit card readers at the gas pumps. Yeah, I was alive way back then when we had to physically walk inside the station to pay for gas.
In walks this 17 year old kid who’s shirtless, shoeless, sticky icky icky down there so I’m doing the bull-legged, sticky butt cheek walk and it’s about five o’clock in the morning on a weekend—not one of my prouder moments. The bell sounded as I opened the door to alert the gas station attendant a customer arrived, we made eye contact as I walked in. We were the only people inside the station at the time, she’s quite a bit older than me, late 50’s or early 60’s I’m guessing and really nice—a kind and sweet, genuine old lady, someone’s favorite grandma.
She greeted me with a huge smile, “good morning hun, can I help you?” I handed her two dollars, this is back when two bucks got a 1/4 tank of gas, “good morning. $2 on pump 5, please.” She took the money from me and stuck it in the register, I turned to walk outside, “thank you ma’am!” She stopped me, “hun, before you leave, did you know you have I...”
Pause! .......The wOrd I’m about to use is not the wOrd that was written in thick, black Sharpie across my forehead, nor is it the word the really sweet and nice, near retirement, soft spoken, old sweetheart, apple pie baking lady said to me—that’s not how this story goes! She used the P wOrd, the real one! She didn’t sugar coat 💩!
“Hun, before you leave, did you know you have ‘I heart Vagina’ written across your whole entire forehead?”
The heart went all the way down the bridge of my nose to my nostrils, yeah, I did a stupid thing once! My forehead: I, then there’s the big heart they drew that went down my nose and finally, the P wOrd (the real one), yes, all the way across my forehead in thick, black Sharpie. On a young kid! At five o’clock in the morning where it’s cold and he isn’t wearing a shirt or shoes and walking like, well, it couldn’t have looked good! I don’t know how she contained her laughter? I had several miles to look at the rear view mirror just one time and it never happened and that, ladies and gentlemen, brings me to the moral of this story: Don’t leave your tank empty!
Impairment of any kind while behind the wheel of a vehicle is illegal and must be avoided, it’s never ok! The last place you want to find yourself when you can’t see is behind the wheel of moving machinery, what happens is, you end up paying too much attention only to the road in front of you. Had my face not been glued to the windshield I could’ve used my eyes to look, 👀 if even for just one second, at the illusive rear view mirror!
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.....“The title of this post!”
Thanks for having me @comedyopenmic, @comedyschool, congratulations on your 40th week!
Have #fun! Everything you need is right here in the rules.
