Wednesday, 3 September 2014

LOST: PERFECTLY GOOD MARBLES, BARELY 40 YEARS OLD


THE CHECKUP WENT JUST FINE
Although I sure am glad my teeth
are rooted to my gums because
God knows where I'd have left those . . .

*Originally published one year ago. Republished because: Lazy


I've decided I gave you way too much cheesecake last week. I mean, this picture in the same week as this picture? Nobody's system was built to process that amount of raw sex appeal; it's borderline cruelty. So today I'm dialling it back a bit. You're totally welcome. 

Now that I've set up this nose-tastic picture of me in a sweatshirt, the story: I'm losing my marbles. I'm doing things I used to wonder how old people could do and somehow not want to go home and hang themselves with a compression stocking.
For example: I had a dental checkup on the weekend (*no herpes, yay!*) and was halfway to my car when I realized I'd left my glasses behind. I rushed back in. 

"Forgot my specs," I said sheepishly. "I think I left them on your desk."
The receptionist searched her desktop. Nope, not there.
I asked the folks in the waiting room if they'd mind checking under their butts to make sure they weren't sitting on my glasses, and thankfully none of them were because that would have been friggin' gross.
A woman told her young son to check under the chairs to see if they'd fallen to the floor. He leapt out of his seat and began a thorough inspection of the entire room.
"I hope that little bugger isn't gonna want a reward," I thought huffily.
Thankfully, he found nothing.

By now, the receptionist was getting emotionally involved. "This is awful!" she said. "Where could they be?" She called in to the hygienist and had her look around for them too. No luck.
"Maybe you left them in the bathroom," she said. "I'll go have a look."
Then she stood up. And then she stared at me. 
"Uh, ma'am?" she said. 
"Yes?"
"They're on your head."

Every person in the waiting room turned to look at me, and then the hygienist came into the reception area and said, "Did you find your glasses?"
"They're on her head!" the little boy crowed delightedly. "They were on her head the whole time!" 
I flicked my glasses down onto my nose and gave him a look that made him clutch his mother's leg. And to think I was going to give him a generous reward!

EDITOR'S NOTE: That happened to me once.
MY NOTE: It did?
EDITOR: Bahahahaa!!! Of course not, I'm only 36!
ME: *grabs scrotum and twists, editor emits bloodcurdling yodel* What's that, dear? Did you just call me old? No? *twists a little harder* You sure?