The Miracle of Bookstar
This is a long one.
There's an unwritten law in my house. Never under any circumstance am I allowed to touch my wife's romance novels.
So I spilled a protein shake on my wife's romance novel yesterday.
The damn thing was on the dining room table, opened up face down to save her page while she was at the gym.
My first reaction was to run to the sink with the book and wash it off and then throw it in the dryer with beach towels.
It's a fine line between acting like an idiot and trying to get your ass out of trouble.
(I was in a panic, I wasn't thinking straight, cut me some slack here.)
Then my Italian male senses kicked in.
Bookstar was five minutes away. She wouldn't be back from the gym for at least another 45 minutes.
I cleaned up the mess and dumped the book in the "outside" trash to cover the evidence.
I made it to Bookstar in just under five minutes.
I run up to the Napoleon Dynamite clone at the information desk and lay out my dilemma.
"Look sport I'm in a hurry I need to find this book I think it has something to do with mining or something like that. It was a blue book; I think someone was fishing on the cover. It had big white letters on the front. My mind was blank I couldn't remember the name of the damn book."
"Do you know the author's name?"
"CRAP!!! Um.... I think it was Remington Steele."
"You mean Danielle Steele?"
He points me to a section, "over there."
I'm dead.
How many books did this broad write????
I'm staring at row after row of books by Danielle Steele.
I also have less than 30 minutes.
There are three or four books that could be the one so I grab them all. In my mind when I get home I'll fish the original out of the trash and make the match.
I run back to check out and there's a line.
The line is not moving.
There's one person working.
It's Napoleon.
There are five of us in line.
There's a fat broad at the counter berating Napoleon about her son's summer book reading list and how Bookstar sucked for not having any more copies of whatever crap the little brat was supposed to read.
She wouldn't let it go.
I have a thing about people picking on the little guy.
I look at Napoleon; I'm sure he ended up working at Bookstar because he wasn't rude enough to work at Starbucks and doesn't have enough body odor, tattoos and piercings to work at Tower Records.
He reminded me of this kid named Tommy I went to elementary school with that spent most of his time eating paste.
Tommy is now a superior court judge.
The clock is ticking.
What was needed now was a man of action.
I spy something on the counter.
Godiva Chocolates. (It makes sense. How can you read some of this drivel without a sugar high to keep you awake?)
"Excuse me. I'd like to buy this lady a chocolate candy bar. I understand they may help her get through that time of the month."
It got so quiet you could hear a fish fart.
Napoleon had this look of horror on his face.
The woman grabs the candy bar out of my hand. Tells me to go @#$% myself, and storms off.
The line breaks into applause!!!
I've got less than 20 minutes.
I tell everyone in line my problem and because of my heroics the line lets me take cuts to the front.
I pay Napoleon and head for the door when I notice something.
A book of card tricks on sale for nine dollars!!! And it comes with two packs of cards!!!
I've always wanted a book on card tricks.
So I'm back at the end of the line.
Everyone thinks I'm nuts now.
Then I remembered something my father taught me.
I peel off a twenty and cut to the front yelling to Napoleon that I'm getting this book of card tricks and he can keep the change.
I head out the door and the security thingy goes off.
I stop dead in my tracks.
I turn towards the line and Napoleon and they are all gesturing to me to GO GO GO!!!
Napoleon yells, "You've still got time!!!"
As I turned the corner to our house I spied my wife's car in my rear view mirror.
It was going to be close.
I went in through the garage grabbing the trash bag with her book out of the can on the way in.
The name of her book?
Miracle.
How appropriate.
Miracle was one of the books I had grabbed.
I opened the book up and placed it face down on the dining room table, threw the whole Bookstar bag into the trash bag and headed out to "dump" the trash just as she pulled in.
"Hi babe. How was your workout?"
"Why are you out of breath?"
"Um... I was running down the stairs."
"Running "down" the stairs?"
"To dump the trash."
"Uhuh... I need to take a shower."
She goes upstairs to take her shower and I fish out my book of card tricks from the trash bag and hide the rest of the evidence.
Ohhhh..... I'm good. I am sooooooo good.
I crash on the couch and turn on the TV.
She comes down stairs and heads for the dining room table.
As I sit smugly on my couch drinking my diet ice tea reveling in my victory when I hear the following:
"DID YOU TOUCH MY BOOK???"
Victory over....
Time for the agony of defeat.
"What did you say babe?" (Always fake deafness when confronted)
"Someone touched my book. It's not on the page I was reading when I left."
"Wow. That's weird babe. Well you know I don't read that stuff." (Technically none of my responses are actually a lie.)
"You knocked my book off the table didn't you?"
"I may have. I don't remember knocking your book off the table. I may have done it when I was straightening up the house without being asked."
I'm good. I'm sooooooooo good.
My wife is now standing on front of me holding "Miracle" in her hands.
It was at this moment that I noticed the Bookstar 10% off sticker on the cover of the book.
Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace.....
"You look pretty."
"Have I told you today that I love you?"
"I like that color on you."
"It brings out the color of your eyes."
"You really are in great shape babe."
"How's your mom? We should go visit her."
Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace.....
"It brings out the color of my EYES?"
"Yes."
"It's white."
"Exactly."
"White brings out the color of my eyes?"
"What? It brings out the color of your eyes to me. I can't let white bring out the color of your eyes?"
Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace....
"What did you do to my book?"
Damn she's good.
So I told her the whole story. Everything. Even the chocolate bar thing.
She just shakes her head and has this look.
And then she laughed.
I got her to laugh.
Men if you can get them to laugh, no matter how stupid you are, they will let you live.
It was a "Miracle."
There's an unwritten law in my house. Never under any circumstance am I allowed to touch my wife's romance novels.
So I spilled a protein shake on my wife's romance novel yesterday.
The damn thing was on the dining room table, opened up face down to save her page while she was at the gym.
My first reaction was to run to the sink with the book and wash it off and then throw it in the dryer with beach towels.
It's a fine line between acting like an idiot and trying to get your ass out of trouble.
(I was in a panic, I wasn't thinking straight, cut me some slack here.)
Then my Italian male senses kicked in.
Bookstar was five minutes away. She wouldn't be back from the gym for at least another 45 minutes.
I cleaned up the mess and dumped the book in the "outside" trash to cover the evidence.
I made it to Bookstar in just under five minutes.
I run up to the Napoleon Dynamite clone at the information desk and lay out my dilemma.
"Look sport I'm in a hurry I need to find this book I think it has something to do with mining or something like that. It was a blue book; I think someone was fishing on the cover. It had big white letters on the front. My mind was blank I couldn't remember the name of the damn book."
"Do you know the author's name?"
"CRAP!!! Um.... I think it was Remington Steele."
"You mean Danielle Steele?"
He points me to a section, "over there."
I'm dead.
How many books did this broad write????
I'm staring at row after row of books by Danielle Steele.
I also have less than 30 minutes.
There are three or four books that could be the one so I grab them all. In my mind when I get home I'll fish the original out of the trash and make the match.
I run back to check out and there's a line.
The line is not moving.
There's one person working.
It's Napoleon.
There are five of us in line.
There's a fat broad at the counter berating Napoleon about her son's summer book reading list and how Bookstar sucked for not having any more copies of whatever crap the little brat was supposed to read.
She wouldn't let it go.
I have a thing about people picking on the little guy.
I look at Napoleon; I'm sure he ended up working at Bookstar because he wasn't rude enough to work at Starbucks and doesn't have enough body odor, tattoos and piercings to work at Tower Records.
He reminded me of this kid named Tommy I went to elementary school with that spent most of his time eating paste.
Tommy is now a superior court judge.
The clock is ticking.
What was needed now was a man of action.
I spy something on the counter.
Godiva Chocolates. (It makes sense. How can you read some of this drivel without a sugar high to keep you awake?)
"Excuse me. I'd like to buy this lady a chocolate candy bar. I understand they may help her get through that time of the month."
It got so quiet you could hear a fish fart.
Napoleon had this look of horror on his face.
The woman grabs the candy bar out of my hand. Tells me to go @#$% myself, and storms off.
The line breaks into applause!!!
I've got less than 20 minutes.
I tell everyone in line my problem and because of my heroics the line lets me take cuts to the front.
I pay Napoleon and head for the door when I notice something.
A book of card tricks on sale for nine dollars!!! And it comes with two packs of cards!!!
I've always wanted a book on card tricks.
So I'm back at the end of the line.
Everyone thinks I'm nuts now.
Then I remembered something my father taught me.
I peel off a twenty and cut to the front yelling to Napoleon that I'm getting this book of card tricks and he can keep the change.
I head out the door and the security thingy goes off.
I stop dead in my tracks.
I turn towards the line and Napoleon and they are all gesturing to me to GO GO GO!!!
Napoleon yells, "You've still got time!!!"
As I turned the corner to our house I spied my wife's car in my rear view mirror.
It was going to be close.
I went in through the garage grabbing the trash bag with her book out of the can on the way in.
The name of her book?
Miracle.
How appropriate.
Miracle was one of the books I had grabbed.
I opened the book up and placed it face down on the dining room table, threw the whole Bookstar bag into the trash bag and headed out to "dump" the trash just as she pulled in.
"Hi babe. How was your workout?"
"Why are you out of breath?"
"Um... I was running down the stairs."
"Running "down" the stairs?"
"To dump the trash."
"Uhuh... I need to take a shower."
She goes upstairs to take her shower and I fish out my book of card tricks from the trash bag and hide the rest of the evidence.
Ohhhh..... I'm good. I am sooooooo good.
I crash on the couch and turn on the TV.
She comes down stairs and heads for the dining room table.
As I sit smugly on my couch drinking my diet ice tea reveling in my victory when I hear the following:
"DID YOU TOUCH MY BOOK???"
Victory over....
Time for the agony of defeat.
"What did you say babe?" (Always fake deafness when confronted)
"Someone touched my book. It's not on the page I was reading when I left."
"Wow. That's weird babe. Well you know I don't read that stuff." (Technically none of my responses are actually a lie.)
"You knocked my book off the table didn't you?"
"I may have. I don't remember knocking your book off the table. I may have done it when I was straightening up the house without being asked."
I'm good. I'm sooooooooo good.
My wife is now standing on front of me holding "Miracle" in her hands.
It was at this moment that I noticed the Bookstar 10% off sticker on the cover of the book.
Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace.....
"You look pretty."
"Have I told you today that I love you?"
"I like that color on you."
"It brings out the color of your eyes."
"You really are in great shape babe."
"How's your mom? We should go visit her."
Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace.....
"It brings out the color of my EYES?"
"Yes."
"It's white."
"Exactly."
"White brings out the color of my eyes?"
"What? It brings out the color of your eyes to me. I can't let white bring out the color of your eyes?"
Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace, Hail Mary full of grace....
"What did you do to my book?"
Damn she's good.
So I told her the whole story. Everything. Even the chocolate bar thing.
She just shakes her head and has this look.
And then she laughed.
I got her to laugh.
Men if you can get them to laugh, no matter how stupid you are, they will let you live.
It was a "Miracle."
posted by Shrinking Wop at 10:10 AM
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