The Sith wanted a graphic, so a graphic she shall have…
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I was on my way home tonight and stopped off in a neighboring town at a gas station where I’m a regular.
I got my 32 oz Red Bull™, some jerky, and an iced tea. Iced tea is cheaper than water, did you know that? Go figure.
I walked up to the cash register. Cash Lady is a plain but amiable lady in her late 50′s.
Note: To quote the great Dave Barry – I swear I am not making this up.
Me: Howdy, Cash Lady. You having a good evening?
Cash Lady: Oh yes, fine, thanks.
Me: I think that’ll be it for me – how much do I owe you?
Cash Lady: That’ll be $7.31.
Me: All right, here you go…
Cash Lady: I have the next two days off.
Me: Really? I used to have Mondays and Tuesdays off. It was nice because errands became much easier.
Cash Lady: (She hands me my money) I suppose so. I’m excited because I get to go see Elvis.
Me: Beg pardon?
Cash Lady: Yes, he’s going to do five shows over at the park and I’m going to see every one of them.
Me: … … Uh. … … Elvis?
Cash Lady: Yes, I’ve wanted to see him for years.
Note: At this point, if she had reached under the counter to whip out a fresh harp seal and smacked me across the face with it I could not have been more surprised. I was literally dumbstruck for a few moments. I was lucky because I grasped for something to say and something was within reach – it’s one of those things that I store on one of my brain’s many shelves for just such an occasion – the occasions where nothing quite fits, like looking a Hallmark card that expresses “I’m sorry your stuffed cat got eaten by a giant rabid beaver”.
Me: Yeah, I bet. A lot of people say that.
Cash Lady: I’m so excited. I asked my boss for the time off and got it!
Me: Well, ok, ma’am… well… have a good evening and enjoy The King.
Cash Lady: Bye bye!














Maybe she meant Elvis Slibowitz?
Love the graphic! Son will have a cackle over it just as I did
I am waiting to hear if Son had a cackle, a chortle, a guffaw, or a mild chuckle…
Chortled. He doesn’t have the cackle gene, I guess.
That poor kid. Well, we all have our burdens… Cruel Wife can’t arch her eyebrows one at a time and I can’t ovulate.
(yes, I know I’ve earned a spot in Hell on Earth for that one)
You should be ever grateful you can’t ovulate.
Scratch that. I know you are
That’s so silly. Elvis is in a rest home with JFK.
Hail to the King!
I thought that Elvis was being handled by the M.I.B. He was recalled and given a new body. Then moved to Vegas to train all of the impersonators.
Well, that is a point of contention. Two camps. One camp believes Elvis is an alien and the other believes that he’s best buds with JFK, who is now a small black man, and that he resides in a nursing home.
Either one delights me to no end.
I’d be shocked… shocked… if you had not seen Bubba Ho-Tep, but if you hadn’t, you really ought to.
Sadly, Campbell says he won’t be involved with any follow-on Ho-Tepping. It’s enough to make a grown man cry.
Based on your recommendation, I’ll have to go movie-searching in my free time.
I forgot the rumor that JFK lived and was in a nursing home on life support.
Maybe he donated organs to replace Elvis’ drug and alcohol-damaged ones?
I love stirring the rumor-pot!
Well, mrmacs, don’t expect a great deal unless you are already a hardcore Bruce Campbell fan.
You need to be careful with rumors like that one. That kind of rumor has a way of exploding – mixing JFK’s nursing home status and his donation of organs to Elvis – wow, that’s big. BIG.
Hm. Maybe not the real Elvis? Or perhaps it is and she let a huge secret slip out.
Or maybe I should have left my hearing aids in and she mumbles a lot. Certain people are impossible to lip-read and things get lost in translation in the best of times.
But I swear, it sounded like she meant The Elvis.
And that graphic? Gives me the crawlies, it does. Brrrrr.
I hear you, Nicole.
Aggie said “[it] screams for a graphic!!”… she has no idea what it took me to do that graphic. I have a severe spider phobia and just looking at the damn pictures of them gives me the heebie-dejeebies. I am a total wussy screaming little girl with spiders.
Ask Cruel Wife – it’s true.
And no, I have no interest in “conquering that phobia”.