Drive By

Normally my nights aren't so eventful at work. Usually, when something happens, it generally isn't that noteworthy. Tonight, however...well, it was eventful. The first thing happened as I came off my first break. A coworker was taking a Drive-Thru order. The woman wanted a steamed milk. Not difficult by any means. She wanted espresso in it. Again, no difficult, but odd, since a latte is steamed milk with espresso already in it (and is cheaper than getting a steamed milk and adding espresso). And finally, what made this whole ordeal interesting enough to contemplate -- she wanted a medium of these...in a small cup. I'm somehow supposed to jam it into a small cup. She goes on at length, no less, about how she wants this medium steamed milk -- add espresso -- in a small cup. My coworker is stumped. I had to literally tell the woman that it was technically impossible unless she somehow had a device to bend space-time to force larger objects inside smaller ones. That shut her up. A man came behind her with an order of his own, and when he got to the window, told me the woman in front of him who had made these demands was a lunatic, and that he didn't envy my job. We had a laugh.

However, this second bit to my night is what really takes the cake. About nine-thirty, a woman came through. She ordered a couple large coffees. I put them together and came to the window. Repeated the price I had on the speaker box, and then promptly felt my jaw slide open a bit.

When she came up, I noticed the woman was pretty good looking. Literally a smoking hot blonde. She had a nice pair of legs, too. In fact, I followed those legs up to where they connected with her torso only to find she wasn't wearing any pants. None. Not even any underwear. The only garment she had one was a jacket. That's it, and even that wasn't done up all the way revealing some very, very nice assets. At this point I tried my best to keep a straight face, not make comments and maintain eye contact. She was stone-faced, although blushing profusely. She paid in cash, hurriedly took her coffee and drove away. Never before have I had a woman come through Drive-Thru wearing only a jacket that came barely to her waist.

I've heard of being in a rush and forgetting your pants, but everything else? Yeah...maybe it was a dare? Either way, she was pretty cute when you look at it...all things considered. I'm gonna stop there.

In a Minute

It's a morning like any other. My usual habit is to shower first and then sit down and eat a bowl of cereal. Nothing grand or exciting, just what I do. Well, on this particular morning, as I sit down and begin to eat, I see a woman. She's walking past my window. See, I live in the basement of my apartment building, so my windows are at ground level. When this woman walks past and turns to look at me, she sees me quite clearly at my kitchen table with a spoon jammed halfway into my mouth. She just stands there a moment, looking at me. I can almost see gears turning, steam sprouting and hear the call of a foreman demanding more power from the engines and to damn the torpedoes.

That little percolation of thought comes together and she smiles at me. Very, very creepy smile, no less.

Doing a quick sideways look out of the corner of my eyes, I'm checking to actually see if it is me that she's smiling at. Oh, but she's got to approach my kitchen window to knock almost politely on it. I've still got a spoon in my mouth and a bowl of corn flakes in front of me. I open the window.

"Hi," she says.

"Uh, hi?"

"Um, do you think you could help me? I need to move this thing up the stairs to the third floor and I can't lift it."

"Can I finish my breakfast first?"

She agrees, so I agree. I close my window and resume eating as she disappears back the way she'd come. What a way to introduce yourself to a neighbor. The item, in the end, wasn't that heavy. Although the look I got while eating breakfast, yeah, that was still somewhat creepy. I should probably eat with the blinds down.

It's Invisible, Honest!

When I visit my folks place, I generally make it a habit to park behind my dad's truck in the driveway for the simple reason that the car departs and returns far more often, and I'd like to be able to leave whenever. Well, this little episode is partly my own fault for not cluing in, but also my dad's. It's Sunday, I head over to the folk's place just before we go to church to say hi. I notice there's no car, so I assume that my dad has left to go pick up a couple people he always does on Sunday, so as per, I park behind his truck. Once inside, I instead find out that one of my sisters has taken the car out of town. I chat with my dad a moment before he informs me he's going to go pick up the aforementioned persons.

It is at this point that I should have realized I would need to move my vehicle, but no. It is also at this point that my dad would notice my truck is behind his and come get me to tell me to move my vehicle, but no. It is at this point that as my dad gets into his truck, he'd properly check all mirrors, shoulder check and whatnot to make certain there's nothing behind his own truck, but no. It is at this point that my dad backs into my truck with his own.

A moment later, he walks into the house. Somewhat amused, somewhat annoyed, somewhat angered. All of the above rolled into one brewing thundercloud. "Uh, I backed into your truck." There was definitely annoyance on my part. The truck, for the most part, is fine. The front bumper, however, is skewed a bit. Twisted along its center axis like a face looking to a side and down partly.It's noticeable, but not too noticeable. It'll get fixed, eventually. My dad said he'd get it fixed. I just need to get the damage appraised, which I'll be doing tomorrow, although probably not by East End Autobody. I don't think I'll be parking behind my dad's truck anymore.

Not Mine, But I'll Take It

So, I had this hilarious phone call the other morning, sometime around nine. Bit of back-story before the call. I work late afternoons, so don't get off work until about eleven at night, so when I go home, I usually spend time to unwind. This means I don't get to bed until about two in the morning. So as a general rule, I don't get up before ten. Phones calls before that time illicit an unusually grumpy attitude. Well, the first call happens at about eight thirty. Nobody on the line, they just hung up. It happens a couple other times. By the four time, I put the phone by my bed.

It rings again and I'm barely awake, phone's next to the bed. Rings, I pick it up. Woman's voice on the other side. Says, "Hello, this is East End Autobody. We're calling to inform you that your Dodge is ready." I'm not even really thinking at this point, just running on autopilot. "I don't own a Dodge, though." Before the woman can even respond, I add in "but if you want, I'll come by and pick it up." At which point, I hear a long bit of silence, then the drooling sound of "uhhh," before finally stopping at the corner of "Sorry" and "Wrong Number." She just hung up. I went back to sleep.

Later on, though, out of curiosity, I checked my caller ID. East End Autobody called three times. Yeah, great...