I got attacked by a chicken today. You know it's gonna be long weekend when that's the highlight of your Saturday.
Well, the wife drug me to the mall last night. Turns out it wasn't such a bad thing because any time spent with her is time well spent. I did however take a moment in Barnes & Noble to not only make a complete ass out of myself and have a little fun in the process.
I don't do stuff like this often, but every now and then it's fun...
First thing I did was walk up to the check out counter and cut about 20 people in line to ask the following:
Macka: Excuse me, can you tell me where the Anger Management books are?
Check out lady: Sure, just give one second
Macka: FINE. SCREW IT! I'LL JUST FIND THEM MY SELF! THANKS!
...and then I stormed off waving my hands wildly in the air and mumbling angry words under my breath.
So I found a couple of books I wanted (one was an IQ test...I've been wanting to know what mine is since I had it done back in third grade) and headed for the check out. On my way, as I'm scanning the books I see one that catches my eye, "Why Men Love Bitches".
Oh, this should be fun.
So I grab the book and get in line, but on my way, I txt my wife and tell her to meet me at the check out, that I'm done.
So I'm standing there, waiting and decide to have a little fun before the wife shows up. I tap the guy on the shoulder in front of me and ask, "Hey, sorry to bother you, but have you ever read this book" and show him the book. He looked and little startled and puzzled as he replied, "Uhhh, no"
"Oh, cool. My dad recommended it to me so I figured I'd check it out." I said, taking our conversation to Mach 5 on the uncomfortable scale.
Of course, a couple of seconds later, my wife walks up (she'd make a great magician's assistant because her timing is fantastic!).
I'm greeted with a kiss on the cheek as she slides her hand into mine and asks, "whatcha gettin'?"
"Just some self help books. I found a good book on negotiating, this one is an IQ test, and I found this" and with that, I reveal the "Why Men Love Bitches" book so that she can read the title herself.
She dropped my hand, adjusted her purse and replied in her best 'you're sleeping on the couch' voice, "I'll be in the car".
I noticed that the guy in front was watching and had a stunned look on his face, so I kept going.
"WOW, is it awkward in here or is it just me?" I said trying to get him involved again. He didn't really turn around, so I kept going. "I guess I can forget about asking her to get me "Why Men Cheat" for my birthday, right." I said, nudging him.
I didn't expect what happened next.
The guy whips around, and proclaims, "You know what, you're an asshole." And with that, he slams his books down on the table behind us and walks out of the store.
"NEXT in line please".
I paid and left.
I should say, I didn't buy the "Why Men Love Bitches" book, it was all just a joke to play on my wife. The guy in line just happened to be bonus for me. My wife knows me well enough to know I was joking, so when I got to the car, she was smiling and greeted me with a joking "I hate you so much".
Oh, I did take the IQ test. Big mistake. I'm now dumber than the 3rd grade version of me.
You ever notice how fat people always seem to have the most drama in there life?
About a month or so back, I saw a story on CNN that talked about this girl who was attackecd by a neighbor's pet bear. The bear got loose when the owner of the bear was cleaning it’s cage and he some how “took his eye of the bear” for a few minutes. I’m guessing it is NOT ok to “take your eye” off of a “pet” bear, ever.
Taking your eye of the ball?
OK.
Taking your eye of the road?
OK.
Taking your eye of your kid for a second while you yell at your other kid for touching everything in the store?
OK.
Taking your eye off of a bear?
UNACCEPTABLE.
CNN went on to report that bear attacks in the home are rare.
Really? You don't say.
I guess they are rare, unless you happen to live next door to a bear, and the bear's owner somehow loses track of said bear. Yeah, I'm guessing when this happens, that the odds are about 50/50 that somebody is going to have their day ruined when the bear comes a knockin'.
So I’m watching TV the other day and I see this story about a girl who has a tumor that weighs 160 pounds. Now I’m no doctor, but the first question that popped in to my mind was, how in the hell does one get a tumor that weighs 160 lbs?
Seriously, how do you let it go that long? I mean why didn’t you do something about it when it was 140lbs, or 120 lbs or even 50lbs for that matter.
I mean, why at 160lbs did she suddenly decide, “ya know, I should probably have this thing looked at”
Really, is that because it could be dangerous or because people are starting to think that you are growing a Siamese twin?
I understand that people procrastinate, but this is just ridiculous.
Back in high school I was set up on the first and only blind date I've ever had. The story, goes something like this. I should tell you that I don't remember her name, so I will use a fictitious one, but the story is the same.
THE INTRODUCTION
I was talking to a friend of mine on the phone and he mentioned, "Dude, I've got a friend I need to hook you up with. She saw a picture of you and thinks you're cute".
"Cool, give her my number and tell her to call me" was my obvious reply.
A couple of days go by and the phone rings. It's her! And so we talk, and talk, and talk. Damn, this girl can conversate, but in a good way. She's interesting and funny too. So of course I begin to ask, "So, what do you look like?"
"Oh, you haven't seen a picture of me?", she asks. (this should have been a sign)
"No, but you've seen me, so tell me, what do you look like. Describe yourself to me" I reply.
"Well, let's see. I'm about 5'4" tall, I'm medium build, have medium length hair, I'm caramel colored (yes, 'ol macka had an affinity for the sista's back in the day) and I have a cute mole on my face.",
"DAMN, a mole! Really?", I say just messing with her.
"Yes, but it's cute, like Cindy Crawford, at least everyone tells me that. " She says.
"So who do you look like? I mean, what celebrity do you like? ". I thought this would be a good way for me to tell how she looks based on her response and her description of herself.
"Oh, most people say I look like Lisa Bonet.",
"NO sh*t. Damn, she's hot!",. (Understand, this was 1990, when Lisa still had her fastball).
Now fully invested because I've got a thing for Lisa Bonet, I spend countless hours on the phone with this chic. We talk about anything and everything; after all, I'm in high school, so I'll do anything to get in her pants...even talk on the phone for hours. Weeks go by and we continue to talk.
THE MEETING
It was a Friday night and I don't remember why, but I just decided to stay home that night. My mom was home too, so we were just chillin' out watching TV. Then the doorbell rang.
I answered it and it was my homeboy from earlier. "What's up yo, what the hell are you doing.", I asked surprised.
"Just kicking it man, we were in the 'hood and thought we'd swing by.", He replied.
"we?",, I asked.
"Yeah, dude, I got Angela with me, she really wants to see you.",
"That's cool. Hold on one second.", I closed the door and turned to my mom in the living room.
"Mom, that chic I've been talking to on the phone is here. Is it cool if she comes in for a second then we jet to go hang some place?",
"I don't see why not",, mom replied. She's cool like that.
I ran to my room to throw on my most freshest cross colors outfit and throw a couple of condoms in my wallet. Just as I returned to the living room, there was another knock on the door. It was her. Damn, all of a sudden I was really nervous. What if she thinks I'm ugly? What if she thinks I'm too skinny? At the same time, I was really excited, LISA FREAKIN BONET. Oh man, I hope I get the skins tonight",this is gonna be so dope.
The door opens. And there she is.
320 pounds of the ugliest "caramel", colored woman you've ever seen in your life. I just froze. I didn't know what to do. My first instinct was to block the door. I think for a second I thought she might push me down. Why, I don't know, but she could have if she wanted to. I don't think I said anything for like 15 seconds, and that's a long time. I just remember staring at her and thinking, "YOU LYING ASS b*tch", You don't look like Lisa Bonet, YOU LOOK LIKE YOU ATE Lisa Bonet.
Well, it must have been an ackward pause, cause the next voice I here is my moms saying, "Honey, why don't you invite your friend in.",
NO MOM, why don't you mind your own f*cking business.
"Hey", I managed, "I'm Macka, want to come in.",
"Hi, I'm Angela. Sure. "
So I open the door as wide as it can go and got out of the way. She waddles in and stands there. I don't know why, but the first thing I did as I closed the door was look at my mom's face. I swear, that woman should play poker.
"Hi darlin', I'm Macka's mom. Come on in and have a seat. I've heard so much about you.",
"Thank you ma'am.", She said as she sat down and ruined our couch springs.
I don't know why I said what I did next, but I did.
"you want something to drink, or some cookies or something.", My mother glanced at me as if to say, 'keep it together son, I've got your back'.
"Sure, I'll take something to drink", . So I go into the kitchen and make her a class of Coke, and as I'm doing so my mom is making small talk. Thank god. I return, hand her the drink and go sit down at the other end of the couch.
Angela, turns to me and says, "well it's good to finally meet you after talking to you for so long. You are as cute in person as you are in your picture.",
"thanks",, I replied. "you've got a mole just like you said you did.",
That's pretty much all I could think of to say. I mean, c'mon. She didn't look like Lisa Bonet and apparently, or definitions of "medium build", where VERY different.
"So, we are all gonna go hang out for a little while, you wanna roll with us?",
OH sh*t. Why did I not see this coming and think of something to say. sh*t, think. THINK!
I glanced at my mom and I could tell she wanted to just die laughing",she had that look.
"uh, well",I don't know, mom, can I go?", I said out of desperation, I didn't know what else to do or say, I was still groggy from the sucker punch.
"Oh Angela, I'm sorry Sweetie, but Macka is grounded. He got in a bit of trouble this week at school and he won't be going anywhere for a while",
WHHAAA?? Are you kidding me? Did my mom just pull the wingman move of the century? YES. f*ck YES. YOU ARE THE f*ckING MAN MOM. HIGH FIVE. I WILL NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER BE BAD AGAIN AS LONG AS I LIVE.
That's what went on in my mind. What I said was, "sh*t, I forgot. C'mon mom.",
This was a risky move on my part, trying to play it cool that is. My mother has been known to be a bit of a practical joker. She could have very easly said, "well, OK", and then I would have been eaten alive by a caramel colored bear with medium hair and not been here to share my story with you.
Thankfully, she replied back, "I'm sorry honey, but rules are rules.",
At this point, I was thinking clearly again thanks to my mom's quit wit. So I replied, "I guess I'm not going to be able to talk on the phone then either?", She nodded in agreement, I wept tears of joy on the inside. I love you mom.
THE CONCLUSION
After a bit more small talk, I walked Angela to the door, told her it was good to meet her and wished her a good night. Closing the door, I turned and looked at my mom and she just sat there.
Not one word was said for the next 30 minutes. Finally, as we sat watching TV, I started to chuckle, as did she. We talked and laughed for hours about it, and still do to this day.
In summary (and for those who want the pictures only version):
I was expecting this:
and this showed up:
Phone Converstaion:
Me: How was lunch at Hooters?
Wife: HOT!
Me: SWEEET!
Wife: No, the A/C was broke.
WAH WAH WAH WAAAAAAH
