Hey gang, how ya’all doin’?
Hope you are all fine as frog hair split three ways!!! So, this week, I’m back on my favorite topic…Stupidity. There just ain’t nuthin’ that gets me spun up
like an overdose of stupid on the hoof.
While researching “stupidity” on the internet, I ran across
a fabulous saying that fits this week’s story PERFECTLY! It was a meme with my favorite actor—Sam
Elliot—depicted with the saying, “When you’re dead, you don’t know that you’re
dead. All of the pain is felt by
others. The same thing happens when you
are stupid.”
AMEN!
So, here’s my stupid story for the month…it happened one day
last week at the bank. I was rushing to
make a hair appointment, and it was an absolute emergency. Between vacation and a sinus infection, I was
a week-and-a-half overdue to have the gray washed away—EMERGENCY of major
proportions! I had rescheduled this
appointment twice, and couldn’t risk pissing off my hairdresser by being
late.
Think about it…he’s got the color
of my hair in his hands. Piss him off
and I could walk out of there looking like this!
So, I’m on my way, with about ten minutes to spare—most excellent. Then I realize I don’t have any money to pay
him with and he prefers not to take credit cards. Uh-Oh.
Okay, nothing I can’t handle…there’s a bank one-half mile from the
salon. No problem…I got this.
I drive to the bank and pull into the drive-thru teller
line. Yeah…only one car in front of
me. Everything is going great—so far. J I wait for a minute or two for the guy in
front of me to finish his transaction.
That’s when I notice something isn’t right. He’s punching buttons way too fast…no one can
read numbers that quickly. I begin to
focus on what he’s doing. Good, he’s
done—his card comes out, and I’m putting my truck in gear to pull forward as
soon as he moves.
He stares at his card for a moment, then inserts it again.
SERIOUSLY?
We’ve all been there, right?
The person who enters wrong information, forgets to do everything in one
transaction, or the bank that lets you see your balance, but you have to log in
all over again if you want to withdraw any money—then there’s the guy who doesn’t
know what his balance is, so he guesses at how much money he can get from the machine…several
times. Yeah, that’s the guy I’m behind.
I’m getting steamed as I watch the seconds tick by. I have 7 minutes to get to the hairdresser or
I walk out looking like a head of lettuce, and this guy puts his card in a
second time, hits all the buttons with the speed of a chipmunk on amphetamines. He stares at the machine for a moment, raps
it on the side, hits more buttons, and out comes his card again.
YEAH!
I really don’t care that he hasn’t gotten his money. I just want him gone. I put my truck in drive again and inch
forward, as does the car behind me.
The guy at the machine licks his card and wipes it on his
sleeve, inserts it back into the machine a third time, and starts punching
numbers like a maniac.
ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?
What the hell is this idiot doing? Is he making that many mistakes? Is he looking for twice the money he has in
his account? How does it take three
tries to get money out of the teller machine?
Ask the damn machine for your balance, idjit! And who licks his freaking card?
I wait.
He stares at the machine, again hits it on the side, and
again punches numbers like Mayweather in a boxing ring.
I am steaming as I watch the seconds continue to tick
by. I now have four minutes to rescue my
hair.
His card exits the machine one more time.
FINALLY!!!
Again, I put my truck in drive and inch forward, as the
idjit inserts his card a fourth time. I
shriek, “You have no money, a-hole, give it up!” Fortunately, my window is up, or it mighta
got real ugly. He might have been
stupid, but he wasn’t small. LOL I think I heard the guy in the car behind me yell
something, too. J
Time to give up and leave.
I scan my rearview mirrors. No
way. I’ve inched within three feet of
the idjit at the machine, and the guy behind me is so close that I can’t see his
car over the tailgate of my truck…but when I lean to the right, I can see his
back bumper in my side view mirror. He’s
there, and I ain’t going nowhere.
This is when I begin exercising my entire vocabulary of cuss
words, calling the guy in front of me everything but smart.
I am SMOKIN’!
The guy performs the same routine—insert card, hit buttons
furiously, stare at the machine, hit it on the side, eject your card.
This time, I’m taking action. I’m rolling down my window to tell him to get
the hell out of line. I now have two
minutes to get to the hairdresser, and I am definitely feeling the pain of this
guy’s stupid.
The guy must have, at long last, exhausted his entire supply of
stupid because he finally, blessedly, put his card away and drove off—before I
could scream obscenities at him or go to jail for maiming him for life.
I pull up to the machine and squint. It looks broke. The screen isn’t black, it’s blue. So, yes, I exercise my right to be stupid,
too. I insert my card and the screen
doesn’t change. No words, no pretty
banking pictures, no on-screen keyboard—just solid blue screen. Okay, I have stupid moments, but I’m not a
complete idjit. I’m happy to say I drove
off after only inserting my card one time.
But I had to wonder…how tough is life for someone who
inserts his card into a machine that is clearly broken and displaying the blue
screen of death? Not once, not twice,
not three times, but four!!!! Then it
occurred to me that he was there when I arrived. Is it possible I’d missed the first two times? Or
twenty? That’s absolutely
terrifying.
John Wayne has been credited with saying, “Life is
tough. It’s tougher if you’re stupid.” I was actually feeling very sorry for the guy
at the bank by the time I arrived at my hairdresser seven minutes late, but
with money in my hand. And, no, I did
not leave looking like a head of lettuce—because I have a very understanding
hairdresser…and did I mention I had money in my hand? J
That’s my story, stupid and senseless, and I’m stickin’ to it. Hang on tight now, ‘cuz we’re gonna go real, real
fast!
Love ya,
Kayce
