Monday, August 22, 2011
Sometimes karma doesn't come around until much later. So much later, in fact, that the person wishing for karma to come back around never really knows if it does. That was not the case for my friend last week.
My friend was on her way back to the office and stopped to get gas. She noticed a beat up old van with a walker visible in the window and a man that appeared to need assistance. He told her that he just got out of the hospital and needed gas money to get home. Feeling in a caring mood, she offered him the $5 that was in her wallet. He graciously accepted it and thanked her profusely. Before my friend could put her gas cap back on, he was gone. He did not get gas.
That got her goat.
If she had a goat.
You know what I mean.
Karma was on duty and caused my friend to look across the street where she spotted the man's van pulling into the liquor store.
That got her goat.
She hopped in her car and went to the liquor store. She rushed inside and found the man, not even buying liquor, but buying a lotto ticket. Then it went a little something like this:
She: Gas money? REALLY? Gas? Where's the GAS?
Man: What? It's only a lottery ticket.
She: I want my $5 back! NOW!
The man rifled through his pockets. The cashier grinned and gave my friend a thumbs up. The man then said he must have left it in his car.
She: Oh good. Then I will just follow you out to your car to retrieve it.
Apparently, he did not think she would go through with it as when they got to his van, he pulled the $5 out of his pocket and meekly handed it to her. Then he got THE LECTURE:
She: You are what is wrong with people today! You are what makes people like me not want to give to people in need because they might get scammed by people like you!
Then she went to her office. Still mad.
Without her goat.
Or is it with her goat?
I don't even know what that expression means. I do know that there is a man out there that might think twice before he pulls that scam again.
Or at least maybe buy his lotto ticket at the gas station.
Monday, August 01, 2011
B was more than a bit dismayed to find out he is not number one in my book. My phone book that is. It all started when I thought I accidentally butt dialed him:
Me: I think I called you by mistake.
B: I never noticed.
Me: I just know because I dialed #5.
B: Wait. I am number 5 in your phone book?
B: NUMBER FIVE?
Me: Maybe it is alphabetical?
B: WHAT? WHO DO YOU EVEN CALL?
He then started to name off all of the people I spend time with on the phone proving that he should at least be number 3. As his look of horror and disbelief grew with each passing minute, I happened to query:
Me: Well, what number am I in your phone book?
B: ONE! YOU ARE NUMBER ONE! I PUT AN "A" IN FRONT OF YOUR NAME TO MAKE SURE YOU ARE NUMBER ONE.
Me: Huh. That is so sweet.
B: YOU KNOW WHAT IS NOT SWEET? BEING NUMBER 5.
He then stalked off muttering something about proving your love or something. Turns out that my contacts do not even have speed dial numbers in my new phone, so the 5 meant nothing. I have no idea why I even thought it did. And B is at the top of the list, although I am sure he doesn't believe me.