Saturday, November 21, 2015

A Public Service Announcement About the Dangers of Drinking and Shopping

Thank you for stopping by today.  I am sure that you can tell from the title of this post alone, that I'm here to do a public service.  Civic minded, that's me, as I am sure that you've recognized from my previous posts about truck nutz, office pranks and chin hairs.

Today, I'd like to talk about a plague that is infecting the nation; it's called drunk shopping.  Nothing fires off a case of "morning after" buyer's-remorse than an empty bottle of Orvieto Classico and an open laptop.

This phenomena has resulted in some truly unusual Christmas and Birthday gifts for my loved ones over the years.  Who can forget the Screaming Pickle, Squirrel Underpants and Bacon Flavored Gum that my nephew received after a joint working session with Ketel One and Archie McPhee?  Or the hundred dollar Tinkerbell halloween costume that I got for my eighteen month old daughter after a few gloriously slushy margheritas at Downtown Disney?

And there have been many, many more.  However, nothing seems to equal last night's purchase.  After a lovely dinner of Angel Hair pasta with a bacon and onion inflected sauce (yummy),  the heaps of salty pecorino romano cheese running through it gave rise to a mighty thirst.  The delightful glass of white wine that I was savoring with my meal gave way to another and another and before I knew it, we were in the den, digesting carbohydrates and watching a documentary on punk music.

At some point in the movie (probably around the mid-late 80's), I lost interest in the subject matter and wandered off to the comforts of my laptop to peruse for a new picture for our recently remodeled den.  When I came across the picture below, I broke a land-speed record for closing a sale via Paypal.  I don't think it was more than 30 seconds from identification of the item to "thank you for your purchase".

Looking at it now with clearer eyes, I find it a bit intense, maybe even a little frightening.  I'm sticking with it though.  I will display it in my den or maybe my desk at work is a better place.  I feel like the expression on his face correlates to my feelings/state of mind for about 90% of the work day. It could also put an end to all the questions I get about why I don't have any pictures or personal effects at my desk.  I'll tell you that the reason for the lack of tchotchkes is, a girl needs to know that she can cut an run at a moment's notice, why be slowed down by possessions? But what better thing to leave behind for the corporate lemmings and the bourgeoisie in a defection situation?  Buyer's remorse resolved.

7 Your comments, banter and witty repartee:

Lin said...

I have shifted my "no tchotchkes" rule to the new "Okay...you can have some, but they have to be able to be packed up quickly in a box" standard. I mean, what good is having an office if you can't load it down with stuff that makes you smile during an otherwise hellish day?

I love the picture. I think it would fit right in my hellhole at work, although, I think it might scare some folks. I'd copy you, but I'm gonna stick with the chalkboard on the door where I can write stuff like "Make work your new favorite" on it.

Diary of a Mad Bathroom said...

Make work your new favorite. That's slyly subliminal. I like it. Me and chalkboards would probably be a recipe for trouble. I would probably draw a big zero with a line through it and write "No Assholes".

Anonymous said...

Lydon is God

B. Wallburg

Diary of a Mad Bathroom said...

Barry, I suspect that you would also like the results of drunken shoe shopping. Oui or non?

Anonymous said...

That would be a wee.

Big Bad Barry

Lin said...

Merry Christmas, dear friend! I hope to see you in Chicago one of these days! Remember...the offer stands for a personalized tour of Loyola.

Diary of a Mad Bathroom said...

Thanks Lin, much appreciated! All the best in 2016.

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