Sunday, August 22, 2004

Pennies from Heaven or Nirvana or Whatever Indian People Believe In!

The other day, I went to 7-11 to buy some milk. In my neighborhood, this consists of dodging the groups of people coming out who travel around in their own fog of weed smoke. So, here I go, on probably a Friday night or something, walking into 7-11 to buy a gallon of milk. Could I be any whiter? Jesus Christ. I think I also bought "The White Man's Guide to Getting Along With Everybody Else Who Thinks I Automatically Hate Them Just Because I'm White" by L. Ron Hubbard.

Anyway, so I walk up to the counter and plop the gallon down. The young Middle Eastern boy behind the counter pushes some buttons or rubs his genie's lamp or something and the total comes to $3.99. Cool. I've got four ones in my pocket so I'll just tell him to keep the change. I hand him the four singles and before I can say "Keep the change" he says, "Okay, thank you" dismissing me for the dope-scented bundle of joy behind me. I walked out of the 7-11 confused. Did that guy just assume I wanted him to keep the change? Fuck that guy. Should I go back in there and ask for my penny? No. It's just a penny. But it's the principle of the thing. It'll teach him not to assume things about people. I don't assume things about him, like he's got a magic lamp beneath his cash register or anything. But I didn't go back in and instead went to fill up one of my tires with air.

The more I thought about losing that penny, though, the more it irked me. Maybe I'm saving all my pennies up to give to babies who are born as witches and need money for their dewitching surgery. He just made a baby stay a witch for a little longer. Motherfucker. Or, perhaps I melt all my pennies down and smelt (that's a nine-dollar word) my own, full-scale replicas of Connie Chung that I may, on a lonely night, pretend that I'm Maury Povich with. The point is, he doesn't know, so he shouldn't just take my penny.

Now I know how they fill up that Take a Penny-Leave a Penny tray. It's all extortion money. They know people won't say anything about a penny. But they've never met me before. I'm going to march in there tomorrow, grab the Take-A-Penny tray and just run out the door. Maybe I'll even throw myself through the glass on the door just to get my point across. Yeah. That's what I'll do. I'll show them. When I'm paying my thousands of dollars in doctor's bills and cosmetic surgery, I'll need donations to help pay for it, and what better place to get them from, than the Take-A-Penny tray. It's the Circle of Life like that Elton John song or the nickname for the hula hoop of babies that I like to exercise with.

I asked about religion in the previous post because, maybe in the future, I'll give my whole spiel about what people are supposed to believe. And, when I say supposed to believe, I mean that I am right and you are wrong if you think different than me. That's what religion should be about: One ultimate truth.

I may have a guest writer in the next day or two. Maybe I could have some suggestions as to whom it should be. If I don't get any, I already have somebody in mind. I have social power more far-reaching than any of you could even fathom. I can get anybody from Alf to Tina Yothers and everything in between.

Interesting thought of the day:
The next time somebody asks you, "How are you?" just answer, "Pregnancy Backpack Chemotherapy" because nobody actually listens to what you say when they ask you that--they're just trying to be nice because you have a hunchback.

2 comments:

theFrog said...

You should totally get that kid from Who's The Boss to be your guest writer. Danny Pinchurros or something. He can flame up this blog all over gay-town. There's not enough rainbows here.

Anonymous said...

So you couldn't get Adrian Zmed, huh?