A Series of Short Stories

Story #1
Title = Happy Birthday... I Hope You Like Crap

So my buddy Eric is in town this week doing his Army Reserve duties. Sunday was his birthday, and so being his only friend in the vicinity, I set out to take him out for his big day. We set out for lunch, Best Buy, a movie, dinner, and a good ole' game of catch. What happened was I lost/left behind my wallet twice and after the movie we realized that Eric had lost his keys. So we spent the next four hours driving around, retracing our steps. They ended up being at Best Buy, but it was closed. My parents of coarse made fun of us. The next morning my mother woke me out of a dead sleep because she had to go to work and couldn't find her keys. I immediately told her to call Dad to see if he knew where they were. This idea, of coarse, was ludicrous to her. Well... you know where this is going. We search for a good hour until she called my Dad and he knew exactly where they were... his pocket. The irony was only made thicker when I said to my mom, "You need a hide-a-key on your car." My mother outraged at the idea that there was something convenient in this world she did not own, retorted, "I have a hide-a-key Lucas..." Dead Silence. She had a hide-a-key this whole time.

Story #2
Title = Is That Even Possible

People sometimes question the use of cell phones. Most people are so annoying that they can't even walk and talk at the same time. They are actually passing laws now that you can't drive and talk on your cell phone unless it is a hands free headset. However, today as I pulled up to an intersection I was stupified. There was a man riding a Harley talking on a cell phone. Not a headset, but actually had one hand on the bike and was hold his cell phone up to his ear. I can't hardly talk to someone clearly on a windy day, or with my windows rolled down, let alone riding on one of the loudest motorcycles on God's green earth. Then I'm wondering how he actually steers the bike, and uses the throttle, and uses the clutch. People wonder if cell phones in the hands of stupid people are dangerous... now we know.

Story #3
Title = I Must Be Gay

So I went to get measured for a tuxedo at Men's Warehouse in Naperville. I would assume they would know me by name at this point. Jeff's wedding is the fifth that I've rented from Men's Warehouse. So I go in and endure the drill. I actually know my sizes, but they want to measure just in case I hit a growth spurt at 24. The old codger that is suppose to measure me goes outside for a cigarette. He yells to someone in the back room if they would get me started on my information. A brunette about 5'3'' and smoking hot comes out with a clip board. In the Naperville area this is not a rare occurrence. Most of the population is 20-30 and good looking. Which is why I live in Plano... the competition isn't as steep. So I begin to give her my measurements and she smiles and nods. At first I assume she is acknowleging that the measurements I am giving are correct, but as we continue she starts to make small noises and comments indicating that she is "approving" of my measurements. I felt slightly violated, but just slightly. This continues until she is entering me into the computer. She sees I have been there before and asks if any of these weddings were mine. I reply no. She approves. We talk for about five more minutes as she holds my receipt. Finally, I just said, "uh... can I have my receipt." "Oh, yeah... sorry." I leave. She waves goodbye and gives the faminine "bye (giggle)." I was dumbfounded. I was trying so hard not to be the creepy guy that hits on the girl behind the counter. I have lost my nerve. But I still have my num-chuck skills.