Tag Archives: humour

A List (for Fun)

People Who Shouldn’t Be Texting While Working as I Walked Through the Streets of Philadelphia This Morning

I had quite the eventful walk to work today, and couldn’t help but notice the massive amount of people texting, most of whom were “on the clock” as they say. I compiled it here for your amusement.

The police officer (in the jewelry district).

The cab driver (with a fare).

The bike messenger (for real).

The guy who almost got hit by a (different) cab driver.

The other police officer (who was driving at the time[and yes it’s illegal in Philadelphia]).

The food cart worker (with a long line of people waiting for their morning coffee).

The mom walking her kids to school (not technically work, but probably even more wrong than the others).

I wish I could say I was making most of these up, but sadly, I’m not. An interesting walk to work this morning.

 

 

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Early Morning Invite

“Want to go out to brunch?” she asks me as I sip my early morning tea, dreading the idea of cooking yet again.

“Sure!” I am all for it! It was like she read my mind.

“But I don’t like breakfast food.” Um…whaaaaa?

“Then why did you suggest brunch? And this early?”

“I dunno.”

I have to just sit and think. This makes no sense to me. She breaks the silence first.

“How about a coffee shop instead?”

As I weigh the option of making breakfast and then meeting her, verse paying a ridiculous amount for a breakfast sandwich that’s been sitting out all morning, she breaks my train of thought.

“But I don’t drink coffee.”

“Then why…never mind.”

“I like hot chocolate. Do coffee shops have hot chocolate?”

“Probably,” I respond.

This conversation is hurting my brain.

 

Based on a true story.

Ticka Ticka

“Ticka ticka two minutes,” her phone suddenly called out. She froze and looked at it as if it just bit her. She reached for it as it said it again. “Ticka ticka two minutes!” Her hand pulled away, then she shook it off. It is, after all, only her phone. She picked it up to find a calendar event going off.

She clicked it to get more information. It was set to go off at exactly this moment, but she hadn’t programmed it. She scrolled through, trying to remember why she would set it at this time. She gave up and put it down. Suddenly the bathroom door opened and her husband was standing there.

“Almost ready?”

“Yup,” she said.

“You know how I hate missing the previews.”

“I know, dear,” she said with a wink.

“Well, we have to leave in a minute to get there in time.”

“Then stop slowing me down!”

He shut the door and the phone erupted yet again. “Ticka Ticka one minute.”

The sound of her husband giggling came from the other side of the door.

Artwork by the lovely Nadia Lavard. Click the image for her Tumblr.

Shooting Star Beach

“But…” she looked at him, confused.

“I said space alien.”

“Okay…so you think the shooting stars are UFOs?”

“Yup!” he said with a triumphant smile.

“But the place is called Shooting Star Beach.”

He nodded. “Look, there goes another one!”

“Shooting star?”

“Space alien.”

“So let me get this straight.  You think the lights that look like shooting stars are – “

“Spaceships flying. Isn’t it obvious?”

“It’s not obvious. It’s dubious at best.”

He slouched a little as her mother walked up.

“He’s only eight,” she whispered into her daughter’s ear.

Cobblestone Streets

The couple walked hand-in-hand through Philadelphia and stopped as Front Street brought them to cobblestone. They looked around and sat on a bench.

“My feet hurt. This is just the break I need.”

A loud sound started coming from around the corner, the sound of a car driving quite quickly on a flat tire. It reverberated off the giant stone statues that made up the monument across the street.

“Sounds like a flat,” he told her knowingly.

“You don’t come to the city enough. It’s just the cobblestone.” He looked at the street and noticed for the first time that it was made of bricks rather than asphalt.

“Oh that’s what you’re always complaining about walking on when you leave work!”

She nodded and snuggled up to him as a cold wind came across Columbus Boulevard from the river.

“But they’re all uneven and messed up. They must be terrible to walk on. I can understand why you’re always breaking shoes.”

“And skinning my knees when I trip.”

“Right.”

The sound of horse hooves came from around the same corner. He watched as the light turned green and a small stream of cars vibrated across the old red bricks. Once the cars were gone the clopping of the horses took control of the environment once again.

The horse and cart rolled by and made less noise against the bumpy road than the cars made only a moment ago.

He watched a guy on his bicycle coming through the park. The biker ignored the red traffic light and flew into the path of an oncoming car that clearly had the right of way. He stopped the bike and started yelling profanities.

“You can tell the cobblestone streets were made for carriages and not cars. I wonder what they’re like for bikes,” he said to her.

“Smart bikers stay away from cobblestone. But sometimes you just can’t avoid it.”

The biker got back onto his bicycle and started on his way only to hit a huge cobblestone brick that was a few inches higher than the rest. The bike tire stopped, throwing the angry biker over the handlebars. He skidded to a halt and sat up, a bit bewildered.

“Try not to laugh,” she said to her boyfriend as he stifled a giggle.

Commercialization of the Word Like

She put her book on her lap as if a sudden idea occurred to her.

“When did the word like become so…”

“Commercial?” he replied from his work desk on the other side of the room. She smiled.

“You always can finish my – “

“Dinner?” He interrupted with a smile.

“Oh so funny,” she said as she dangled her legs over the side of the dark red couch of their study. “You’re working pretty hard over there.”

“Marketing doesn’t market itself, as my boss always says.”

“Trying to get the new book more likes?”

“Yup,” he said with a frown. “It’s tough. We’re up to 1, 256. My goal is 3000 by the end of the week.”

“Do you get what I’m saying, though? It’s almost as if the word like has lost all meaning. The power of liking something has been diminished, in a meaningful way. I heard a ten-year-old tell his friend that she should like his blog, and she said only if he liked her friend’s pic for some contest. He agreed. But what does he care about the contest? He liked it, I’m sure, as soon as he got home, so that she would fulfill her side of the verbal contract and like his blog. The word is losing its umph, its pizzazz, its gumption.”

He turned to face her, which was simple since he was in a swivel chair. “From a human standpoint, I totally see what you mean and can get behind you a hundred percent. But as a heartless bastard in the world of marketing, what you’re saying right now is scaring the shit out of me.”

“Maybe I’ll start a campaign. A campaign to take back the word like! I’ll tell the world to stop liking things and to just like things! Real life like! I’ll never forget the day you first told me you liked me, I giggled and blushed. Remember?”

He nodded even though his back was to her.

“Maybe you should start a Facebook page.”

“Very funny. But if we weren’t together, and you told me that you liked me now, it just wouldn’t mean the same thing. I like you. Well, that’s nice and all, but you also liked Girls in Wet T-Shirts and California Raisins today, so I’m not really sure where I fit in on your list of priorities.”

“Okay, first off, I liked Girls in Wet T-Shirts as a joke. And I happened to be eating raisins yesterday and thought about how much I liked them, so I liked them.”

“Oh trust me, I laughed at the joke, no worries there. I knew it was your sense of humor aimed right at me. I’m just saying.”

He clicked the mouse a few times. “Hmm…looks like someone likes Those Pantyhose That Come in an Egg Container today. Can I start calling you hypocrite now or should I wait?”

She laughed as he turned to face her again and used his feet to wheel right up to the couch. As she looked at him he took her hands in his and pulled her upright and they faced each other. The smile left his face and he looked at her with love and longing.

With all of the seriousness he could muster, he whispered, “I like you.”

She smiled and blushed.