Recycled.
Sorry to disappoint LJ readers out there in Information Superhighway Land, but I just done recycled this story from a Facebook note that I wrote a few nights ago, though I swear I meant to post it here first, honest! Anyway, for those without the benefit of Facebook (where you read such rousing status updates as, "Ready for weekend!!!!1") here's a little story from some of my recent travels (to Target). As an added bonus because I love LJ more than my own children, I've concluded the story with an extra bonus story not available anywhere else! Best part is it's absolutely free! (plus S&H) Enjoy!
Bethany and I were strolling through the local Target last week knocking items off of shelves and generally being the delinquents that we are. We picked up a bag of pumpkin spice-flavored Hersey Kisses (which we later bought and brought home to find them all melted, totally uncool) and headed toward the electronics isle. Somewhere between the Halloween décor and the sporting goods department, we were stopped when this guy, probably a few years younger than us, said, “I know this is going to sound weird but I’m from a local church,” at which point I was thinking, “that’s not really weird, I hear people go to churches all the time.” Anyway, he continued on that he was doing a scavenger hunt for his church and one of the items he was looking for was someone with a leg tattoo. He showed me the piece of paper that he was holding and sure enough, “leg tattoo” was written on there and although it looked like he had just written it on there seconds before coming up to me, I kept listening to what he was saying. He said that since he and his friend (who now joined him, also holding a list) found us, it meant that Jesus had sent them there for a special reason and he inquired as to what that reason might be.
We thought long and hard about any reason Jesus would send two guys from a local church to the sporting goods department of Target to bless us (and keep us from the wonderful video games section) and finally I mentioned that we were getting married. As it turns out, the guy’s friend had “wife/girlfriend” as part of his scavenger hunt, so they hit the mother load with us and kept on insisting that Jesus had sent them there to find us and bless our wedding. I know it sounds a little crazy when you read it, but these guys were sincere (though reading a bit TOO MUCH into things). They asked if they could bless our wedding by saying a prayer for us to which we said, “sure why not.” Such good Christians we are, eh?
So right there in the middle of the aisle in Target, the two churchgoers put one hand on each of our shoulders and said a really long prayer wishing us a happy and safe marriage. It was really long. Jay Leno has had shorter monologues than this prayer. That’s how long it was. I kept my eyes open through most of it because sadly, I sort of thought these guys were going to rob us. That’s a horrible thing to think, I know, but you never know nowadays. It’s not like they showed me church IDs or anything. So let that be a lesson to everyone: unless you’re wearing priest robes, I’m going to think you’re just going to try to steal my wallet. After the prayer was over (it ended with one of the guys calling God an “awesome God” which I thought was awesome), we went on our way and that was it. Oh, and the two guys saw us later when we were shopping in the women’s underwear section. Can’t imagine what would have happened if that was the first place they met us.
Alright, this tale isn't nearly as exciting as the one I posted above, but it's still worth mentioning. It took place in Wal-Mart which becomes quite obvious as you read on. I was standing there looking at some nifty Halloween shirts when this rather loud, obnoxious woman comes waddling over screaming on her cell phone to whomever she is talking to that she's "AT WAL-MART BUYING CLOTHES!" Anyway, she stands a few feet away from me looking at the wall of clever phrase shirts that Wal-Mart has. If you knew me at all in high school, you knew that I used to wear them all the time and after the first time seeing them they ceased being clever. She reads one shirt that says, "I'm right 90% of the time, who cares about the other 20%." See? It made you kind of chuckle just now, but go back and read it and I bet you barely crack a smile.
Well imagine hearing the words printed on that shirt repeated over and over and over and over again because that's the kind of hell I endured on that particular day. The woman on the phone repeated the shirt's phrase to the person she was talking to louder and louder each time. The person on the other end either (a) didn't hear her the first four times (which I found to be quite impossible and illogical) or (b) truly didn't get what the shirt was driving at. If you need to explain a clever shirt you found at Wal-Mart to someone more than once, you should delete that person's number from your cell phone right away and pretend to not speak English next time that person sees you on the street. She concluded the conversation by saying that the shirt (which she just repeated over and over and over and over again in case you weren't aware) was "SO YOU" in reference to the person that she just tried to explain it to.
Oh, and earlier in the conversation she said to this person, "You know you're my sex slave." If you saw this woman as I did when I glanced out of the corner of my quivering eyes, you'd understand the reason I included that line in my story. It completely ruined any thoughts or inclinations I would have ever had to being a sex slave.
Bethany and I were strolling through the local Target last week knocking items off of shelves and generally being the delinquents that we are. We picked up a bag of pumpkin spice-flavored Hersey Kisses (which we later bought and brought home to find them all melted, totally uncool) and headed toward the electronics isle. Somewhere between the Halloween décor and the sporting goods department, we were stopped when this guy, probably a few years younger than us, said, “I know this is going to sound weird but I’m from a local church,” at which point I was thinking, “that’s not really weird, I hear people go to churches all the time.” Anyway, he continued on that he was doing a scavenger hunt for his church and one of the items he was looking for was someone with a leg tattoo. He showed me the piece of paper that he was holding and sure enough, “leg tattoo” was written on there and although it looked like he had just written it on there seconds before coming up to me, I kept listening to what he was saying. He said that since he and his friend (who now joined him, also holding a list) found us, it meant that Jesus had sent them there for a special reason and he inquired as to what that reason might be.
We thought long and hard about any reason Jesus would send two guys from a local church to the sporting goods department of Target to bless us (and keep us from the wonderful video games section) and finally I mentioned that we were getting married. As it turns out, the guy’s friend had “wife/girlfriend” as part of his scavenger hunt, so they hit the mother load with us and kept on insisting that Jesus had sent them there to find us and bless our wedding. I know it sounds a little crazy when you read it, but these guys were sincere (though reading a bit TOO MUCH into things). They asked if they could bless our wedding by saying a prayer for us to which we said, “sure why not.” Such good Christians we are, eh?
So right there in the middle of the aisle in Target, the two churchgoers put one hand on each of our shoulders and said a really long prayer wishing us a happy and safe marriage. It was really long. Jay Leno has had shorter monologues than this prayer. That’s how long it was. I kept my eyes open through most of it because sadly, I sort of thought these guys were going to rob us. That’s a horrible thing to think, I know, but you never know nowadays. It’s not like they showed me church IDs or anything. So let that be a lesson to everyone: unless you’re wearing priest robes, I’m going to think you’re just going to try to steal my wallet. After the prayer was over (it ended with one of the guys calling God an “awesome God” which I thought was awesome), we went on our way and that was it. Oh, and the two guys saw us later when we were shopping in the women’s underwear section. Can’t imagine what would have happened if that was the first place they met us.
Alright, this tale isn't nearly as exciting as the one I posted above, but it's still worth mentioning. It took place in Wal-Mart which becomes quite obvious as you read on. I was standing there looking at some nifty Halloween shirts when this rather loud, obnoxious woman comes waddling over screaming on her cell phone to whomever she is talking to that she's "AT WAL-MART BUYING CLOTHES!" Anyway, she stands a few feet away from me looking at the wall of clever phrase shirts that Wal-Mart has. If you knew me at all in high school, you knew that I used to wear them all the time and after the first time seeing them they ceased being clever. She reads one shirt that says, "I'm right 90% of the time, who cares about the other 20%." See? It made you kind of chuckle just now, but go back and read it and I bet you barely crack a smile.
Well imagine hearing the words printed on that shirt repeated over and over and over and over again because that's the kind of hell I endured on that particular day. The woman on the phone repeated the shirt's phrase to the person she was talking to louder and louder each time. The person on the other end either (a) didn't hear her the first four times (which I found to be quite impossible and illogical) or (b) truly didn't get what the shirt was driving at. If you need to explain a clever shirt you found at Wal-Mart to someone more than once, you should delete that person's number from your cell phone right away and pretend to not speak English next time that person sees you on the street. She concluded the conversation by saying that the shirt (which she just repeated over and over and over and over again in case you weren't aware) was "SO YOU" in reference to the person that she just tried to explain it to.
Oh, and earlier in the conversation she said to this person, "You know you're my sex slave." If you saw this woman as I did when I glanced out of the corner of my quivering eyes, you'd understand the reason I included that line in my story. It completely ruined any thoughts or inclinations I would have ever had to being a sex slave.