2/04/2013

The Gift of Loser

Story Sent in by Sherrie:

Arthur and I browsed in a little main street gift shop on our first date together. He said it would be a fun place to go because "they had cool stuff." While we were there, he stacked a bunch of folded, decorative hand towels on top of his head and said to me, "Look, I'm a linen closet."

It was a little funny, so I laughed a little. That, though, seemed to encourage him. He put the towels down, grabbed a woven blanket, wrapped his face in it, and said, "Look! Now I'm a bed."

The saleswoman, who had to have been over 80, didn't notice, or else I'm sure she would've been upset at the way he was handling her merchandise. I laughed weakly and suggested to Arthur that we leave.

Instead, he grabbed a handful of silverware, balanced it on his head, and said, "Now I'm a kitchen! Drink me! Floss me!"

It didn't make any sense, but I cracked up a bit, all the same. Then, he took the forks and spoons off his head, put them down, and gave me a sultry look. He asked, "Want to see the washing machine room? Washing machine!"

Without waiting for an answer, he bent down and lifted my skirt. I kicked him, hard, and he fell back against a counter. Nothing breakable was on it, just a stack of throw rugs. Still, he fell to his knees, and shouted and yelled that I "broke his back" and that I was "paying for it."

The saleswoman either didn't hear or couldn't care less. Arthur was writhing on the floor. He didn't hit the throw rugs hard at all, and I knew it was all theatrics. I said to him, "Just calm down. What were you doing, lifting my–"

"Call an ambulance! Call a mortician! Oh!"

He moaned and groaned, and probably didn't even notice that I left him there and went home. I haven't been back there since. Maybe he's still there, rolling by the rugs, accompanied by an oblivious elderly proprietor.

17 comments:

  1. Much like a washing machine, he was agitating...

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  2. Replies
    1. ^ Here's soaping you were kidding...his material is usually dirty and I'd say washed up! :P

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    2. She'd certainly bleached the end of her tether, but she could have boraxed him to crease and desist before he checked out her lint trap.

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    3. ^ Nice! ...and I'm not normally onTide with other comments because they bring me Downey.

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    4. Soil glad I could bring you Cheer!

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    5. You are really giving this your All....I guess nothing to lose and a lot to Gain.
      Is it just me or are these laundry puns just going in cycles? Gotta Bounce...

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    6. I'm ec-static you hold me in such es-steam -- you aren't putting me nylon, are you? I only post every rinse in a while, so I wouldn't imagine knit if you were just fading me out.

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    7. Son of a bleach! Me, Fading you out? Never!!...I'm just hanging you out to dry. Polyesterday I did nothing and it was such a Borax that I could just dye!

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    8. That's what I tweeded to know :) It's a load off my mind. Iron you to know I only basket to get a wrinkling of where you stood. I mildew want to chute you a (clothes)line sometime <3

      ........walks away muttering something about coathanger abortions........

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    9. you dry cleaned me right out of puns!

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  3. From "I'm a kitchen!" to "Drink me! Floss me!" Is a leap I just can't make. His exclamations make me think of some fucked-up Alice in Wonderland.

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  4. "Call an ambulance! Call a mortician!" makes it seem like he received all of his dating advice from 1930's vaudeville acts. She narrowly escaped a handbuzzer and a "Doctor!Doctor! joke.

    Next time, don't let the date progress if he's wearing baggy hounds-tooth pants, suspenders, and fingerless gloves.

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    Replies
    1. Fizziks! So glad you're back.

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    2. Glad to be back, sir! Spent the last year-point-five in a full body cast from an event renting myself out as party bouncy-castle gone terribly awry.

      Also, had a job that was draconian on the interweb access. All better now.

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  5. Hahahahahahahahahahahaha can't stop laughing about everyone's comment. XD

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