Available at
07/03/2008
I’m
Brad. I write stuff.
I’m pretty
sure I’ll never hear the end of it.
The Missus and I
work in buildings right next to each other. We carpool. I get out of work an hour before she
does and have a bit of time to kill.
The issue is an
hour is too long to just sit there waiting, but not long enough to really do anything. Sometimes I visit the nearest Borders,
but that’s just a good way to spend money. On other occasions, I’ll hit
Starbucks, but then I show up with the jitters.
So on this
particular day, I decided to just sit in the car.
I listened to
the radio.
And read.
And got sleepy.
And then the
phone rang.
It was The
Missus. I was fifteen minutes late
picking her up.
She was steamed,
rightfully so.
“Where
were you?” she said with wide eyes and flared nostrils.
“Er…I
was sleeping.”
It was a long
ride home.
The worst part
is I will never win another argument ever again, because no matter what point I
make, she’s has a foolproof trump.
“You just
killed that guy!” I’ll say.
“You fell
asleep when you were supposed to pick me up from work,” she’ll
counter.
“Sigh. I’ll get a shovel and some
limestone.”
Later
Brad
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