I’m searching for a router on Kijiji. Find a cheap one with no details except that its a router and fire off a message.
Me: Hi, is your router still available? Also, could you give me some more details on it?
Him: Yeah, the router is still available. Not much to tell. It works.
Me: I meant more like specs. Can you tell me what product it is? And is it Wireless N, G, or B?
Him: You’ve got too much time on your hands buddy, and I don’t…
Can I just say: what. an. Idiot. This guy would sell a cellphone by saying “Cell Phone for sale. It can make calls and stuff.” I hope his router never gets sold and he has to walk around with this piece of junk for eighty years.
I go to the walk-in clinic often. I’m a bit of a hypochondriac, so you could almost call me a regular. Normally, I go with invisible complaints: I’m dizzy, my tendons hurt, my neck feels stiff, etc., and I always get an older female doctor who does a brisk, matter of fact checkup and rapidly dispatches me. Today I woke up with a distinct bright red face rash and naturally, I felt that a doctor should look at my rash, so I went to the clinic. I didn’t bother to put on makeup, or put in my contacts or make sure my scarf matched my coat, bc I had a bright red face rash. And then, the young male doctor they assigned me to was HOT! To recap the situation, I went to the walk-in clinic with my first obvious physical symptom, a Tomato Face, and instead of the usual older lady doctor, I got a painfully attractive young male doctor who was personable and nice! My life is DEFINITELY a cosmic joke.
This story happens in a bathroom. I’m sorry, that’s just the way it is.
After the Good Friday service, I went to use the washroom. As I entered the bathroom stall, I pulled my gigantic phone out of my tiny coat pocket. The phone was squeezed in so tight that when I pulled it out, a fat loonie popped out too. The loonie clattered LOUDLY to the floor and skidded under the neighbouring stall. It was still visible, but I really didn’t want to reach down and get it, because I felt like that would be a teeny bit awkward for the person in the next stall. So I figured I’d just sort of stand there, wait for the other person to leave the stall, and then retrieve the loonie really quickly. After a brief pause, while I stood around in a bathroom stall, no big deal, the tip of a foot appeared. The foot surreptitiously stamped down on the loonie, and slid it away. A couple of seconds later, the owner of the foot left the stall.
Oh, ok, I thought, they could have kicked it back to me but that’s cool, I guess they’ll wait for me to get out of the stall.
So I finished up my business really quickly, and exited the stall. The bathroom was empty. It was a deserted wasteland. A tumbleweed rolled by. I calmly washed my hands and checked my hair. I was kind of laughing to myself, but I wanted to give this mystery person one last chance to return the dollar. They didn’t.
So THAT is the story of how someone STOLE my loonie, ON Good Friday, IN church!! (I thought it was hilarious)
Yesterday, I was hanging out at Reese’s place without him. He’d gone with one of his roommates to see Captain America 2. I definitely didn’t want in, so I stayed behind. I was starting to feel a little bit starving, but wasn’t sure what to eat. He’d bought a bunch of random food, and I didn’t want to eat anything in case he had purchased it with a special reason in mind. Finally, I settled on a can of tuna, because I figured if he was mad that I’d eaten it, it wouldn’t be that big a deal to run to the corner store and buy him another one.
This was around the time the movie was getting out, and one can of tuna is a lot for a teeny person like me, so I texted Reese and asked if he wanted half the can of tuna. I explained over the phone that if he was mad about the tuna, I would just buy him another one. He laughed and said “I knew that if I bought tuna, you would go Oh-em-geeeee, tuna! And definitely eat it.”
Today, Reese is at the lab, working on his final project. Meanwhile, I’m camped out his place, waiting to go to a friend’s house for the evening. I’m starting to get kind of hungry. I creep around Reese’s food. But again, I don’t want to eat his food. Luckily, I have access to him this time, so I text him, and ask “Can I eat the Italian Wedding Soup?” This is both of our favourite soup, and I half expect him to pout and say he wanted to eat it. Instead, he messages back:
I also knew you would eat that.
So I guess my S.O is paying attention to my eating preferences and buying accordingly? Meanwhile, I forget to buy juice, snacks, or food in general whenever he comes over. :/ I think he’s winning this relationship right now.
Reese likes his pseudonym so much that he brought me this after going to the movies tonight. Sadly, it was empty.