Deal or No Deal

I've been sick since Saturday. At first I thought it was just an overachieving hangover that just couldn't get the hint after my way-too-fun Friday night, so I just went about my business like I was one Tylenol away from tap dancing through my errands like I usually do (shuffle, ball change, step, heel click and FREEZE! ***hands cashier a 20 dollar bill with a wink***).

I left Best Buy with some crap I shouldn't have purchased (I think I bought some photo paper and a pony) and left for home. I felt awful and weak, yet was really hungry. I wondered why I crave fattening fast food when I'm sick instead of eating carrots or bark like I should.

My train of thought was broken when I noticed two people on the side of the road. It was a man and a woman outside of a used car dealership by the edge of the highway. The woman seemed to be pushing the man down and crying, and both seemed to be in much distress.

I immediately thought that she was trying to stop him from running into oncoming traffic. I don't think this would be the average person's first thought when two people are struggling outside of a used car dealership. However my friend, I'll just call J.C., (prepare for a Debbie Downer moment) ran over and killed a man who was attempting suicide several years ago. There happened to be a police officer who witnessed the man attempting to walk in traffic several times before he jumped in front of J.C.'s car. My friend, of course, freaked out and out of confusion stopped and was walking to the scene to see what he had hit. Thankfully, the police officer stopped him.

Knowing that this happened to J.C. prepared me when a man attempted to jump in front of my car about two years. I slowed down quickly once I saw him, so that if I did hit him, the worst he'd get was a strong nudge and a stern talking to. Luckily I didn't hit him, and I called the police.

Once I passed these two people, I had the noble thought to go and help them even though I felt like $@!*% or "shit" as they say in English. I drove back around to the scene and pulled into the dealership. With a closer look, I saw that they were actually fighting over a briefcase. What was in that briefcase? Money? Top secret documents? A old map to One-Eyed-Willie's treasure? I don't know. Someone with some sort of "authority" zoomed in to help before I had the chance. Was it Batman? Was it Superman? No. It was Target security on a Segway.

Damn those bi-wheeling, department store ninjas!!! They always crack the case before I have a chance to get in there. With a heavy heart, I changed out of my bullet-proof cape, radioactive leotard, and water-resistant crocs and continued on my drive home.


Love,















P.S. I'm well aware that this story was incredibly anticlimactic, but let's pretend it was awesome and move on.