Thursday, May 7, 2009

File this under "Crap that only happens to me"

Let me preface this story with another short story. Late Friday night I wandering the aisles of Walm*rt and saw some fake nails that I've been seeing a commercial for lately. On the commercial they look really classy, short and french manicured. They looked good in the store too, so I bought them. Brian laughed at me, but I liked them and they looked natural on. End of first story.

So, yesterday was Brian's birthday. He had told me that he would like me to get his IPOD fixed for his birthday present. (it is D-E-A-D, and has been for months). So I find this business on the internet here in the area that works on them. The website is very professional, with a pricing list and even reviews from other clients, most of whom have shipped their IPOD to them from around the country. So I call and the guy says he could take a look at it today if I wanted to drop it off. Works for me. So he emails a link with the address and a google map. It's only about 5 miles from my office so I decide to go at lunch. I follow the directions and roll up at the address. It's an older split level house. mmmmk. All I can think of is the Cr*ig's Li$t Killer. There's a guy out in the driveway washing a van so I ask "Are you Danny?" (Danny is the guy I talked to earlier). He says "No, that's my son". I notice, he doesn't look that old. So, he goes to the back door and yells for Danny. This kid that couldn't be more than 18 or 19 comes out on the front porch and I start talking to him about the IPOD. He's got his stuff together and starts writing me a receipt for the equipment. While he's working on that I am trying to get the bottom of the box that the IPOD is in back out of the lid that i had sat it down inside and all of the sudden one of my fingernails goes flying off and hits the guy and lands right on his receipt book. Not on the ground where I can kick it off the porch, nope...right into his hand. He just handed it back like it was a normal occurence. I was mortified and trying to stifle my laughter all at the same time. As soon as I got in the car I busted out laughing for a good five minutes at least.

My family jokes that these types of things always happen to me. Like the time I got locked in the charter bus bathroom and the whole caravan of 6 busses had to pull over or the time I was stuck in my grandpa's car in the driveway for over an hour, but those are stories for another day.

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