Second of all, my pal, Susie just wrote me two of the funniest things I've read in awhile. The first is her general observation about the financial crisis:
"I'm so over hearing from Wall Street and Paulson and Bernanke and Todd about what the government is doing to help. It's like getting sex tips from your rapist."
Next is a horrible dating story that she relayed. Well, you just have to read to believe it and no, this did not happen to either one of us, though I can certainly picture it:
A woman, let's call her Julie, had been dating this man, let's call him Mike, for just a short while. They had reached the point in the freshly budding relationship where she spent the night at his house for the first time. In the morning he had to leave for work and left her a key telling her to make herself at home and just lock up when she left and put the key under the mat.
Julie got up and made herself some coffee. The coffee did what coffee does and she had to poop. It was a very large poop. Not at all the kind of poop that you would want your new man to know that you were capable of producing. Especially not a guy that you really really like - a lot.
So imagine her consternation when she discovered that the toilet would not flush. It's not that she clogged the toilet. It wouldn't flush. Dismantling the toilet did not lead to any solution that involved flushing and she was absolutely freaking out. She called her friend and asked her what to do.
Julie's friend gave her advice that, at the time, must have seemed reasonable when faced with the option of leaving a giant log in Mike's toilet.
Her friend told her to fish it out, put it in a ziploc and then take it with her to throw away.
Not know what else to do that is exactly what she did.
Completely frazzled from the fishing expedition she got herself ready to go and wrote Mike a note, which she left on the counter that said, "Had a great time. I really love our connection."
Then she walked out the front door....
Leaving the key and the ziploc bag with the giant poop in it on the counter next to the note. The door had the auto lock in place so she was locked out and her poop was locked in - next to the note about their special connection.
She was so mortified that she changed her phone number.
Mike never pursued any further contact.