Wednesday, September 4, 2013

What, You Thought I'd Stop?

The posts will be few and far between from now on, but I predict their average quality will sky rocket.  On me?  I am doing my best to leave no stone un-turned in the search for the next true me.  I think I already know what I want to do, but I'm not letting myself focus on it yet in case I can find something that really grabs me.

So I was home visiting the folks last week (and to go to an old college buddy's weddings) and you know what?  My mom and dad and I actually had some really good times for the three days I was there.  The highlight, however, was going out for frozen yogurt.  My dad hosted a bbq, which was quite delicious except for him over doing the steaks a tad (I'll forgive that, honestly he needed a bigger grill), and then I suggested we all go out for froyo, my treat.  So I google that shit up and you know what?  Not that many of them out there (which consequently seems to have kept the prices a little higher, as you're about to find out).  Anyway, I'm talking about the serve yourself places, the ones with maybe 10 flavors and 10 million toppings where you pay by the ounce.  So just as we're walking into (and I can't make this up) Swirlie Whirlie (literally I am holding the door open for mom and dad) my girl calls.  Shes on her way to girl scout camp for the weekend and is just about to lose cell phone reception and well there are a couple of things we need to talk about.  I can't even remember what they are, but they were mildly important and I couldn't talk to her for the next 48 hours, so I excused myself but handed Dad my wallet.  Big mistake.

After a 6 minute phone call (I checked) I walked into the establishment and hilarity had in fact ensued.  First of all upon being asked "have you been here before" my Dad responded "she has" and pointed at Mom.  Mom just kind of shrugged, and then proceeded to give Dad zero instructions whatsoever, probably because he asked zero questions.  I had promised them it was super cheap;  the last time I got it with Babar we spent $4.37 between us.  But...Dad apparently didn't know it was pay by the ounce.  In the post mortem he admitted "when I saw other people just getting a little, only filling their cups halfway up, I thought "I Know what's going on here" but by then...well, Jess, it was just too late".  My parents managed to spend something like $11.50 on Froyo, with my dad's cup quite literally filled to the brim.  "Why would you get that much Froyo," I asked him, "even if it was free?  You clearly do not want that much!"  The reply was simply "I just couldn't help myself".  Over half of his helping came home with him, after melting of course.  The next morning it was just a practically homogeneous glob of chocolate, coconut, and some weirdo Hawaiian delight flavor.  Oh and whatever toppings he put in there;  a word to the wise, gummi bears just don't taste that good frozen.  I learned that when me Dave Coleman and Maiki decided to eat an entire Vermonster the night before a swim meet in college.  Anyway....

But that's not the best part. Remember I gave my dad my wallet?  Well apparently it had exactly 6 bills in it, and wouldn't you know the first one he pulled out was a benny?  " on" and he extracts...the other benny!  $213 dollars in my wallet and he pulls out two hundos, obviously.  He told me he couldn't remember the last time he even saw one, and fumbled through an explanation to the guy that "it's not my wallet...well, son said it was his treat!"  The response?

"Must be nice"


Pokershaman said...

Yeah, our relationship to cash is ... different ... from ordinary people's.

I still remember the first time I found a Fun Ticket in my wallet that I hadn't realized was there. That doesn't happen to civilians.

Patrick said...

Yeah, I have two in my wallet right now along with some other bills, and it feels bad because last time I went to the casino there were 10x as many of them.