today at work someone paid with exact change and i said, “ooh, exact change, my favorite,” and they laughed and i laughed and life went on. maybe ten minutes later someone else paid with exact change and i thought, “i guess there’s no rule saying i can’t just say exactly what i said before,” so i went, “ooh, exact change, my favorite,” and they laughed and i laughed, but inside i felt like a weird gross robot who recites stock phrases when you put money in him. they walked away and my brain was like, “your favorite?? your favorite WHAT?? that’s your favorite? hey, body, shut it down, he doesn’t like laughing or feeling accomplished or experiencing the joys of life, his favorite thing is being handed exactly the right amount of money!! your FAVORITE how about i make you forget your fucking keys tomorrow morning, huh? is that your favorite??”
i want a shirt that says, “i’m using mouthwash right now.” like, it wouldn’t be useful 99 percent of the time, but man, that day i’m using mouthwash and walking around the house and someone asks me something and i just gesture to the shirt? very worth it. even more worth it if i wear it under a robe all the time and then just open it when they start talking to me. i guess it’s more of a winter thing.
i hate when you’re going home late at night and your train goes local and you’re looking at all these random stops like, “people live here? what is this?” the doors open in like a mystic swamp, the docks to an abandoned lighthouse, just a staircase descending into the shadows.
i don’t drink that often and i think my body is like, too militant on processing alcohol. like i drink some beer and get buzzed and my organs are just like, “clearly this is a poison trying to kill him. don’t worry, bro, we filtered it out, you should be feeling better now.” and i’m sitting there like, “noo i paid six dollars to feel like thaaat. it was the point.”
i was feeling down earlier because i don’t think i make enough money. i was deep in this pit where i was convincing myself that playing the lottery would be a good investment, like if i just didn’t spend two dollars on a drink or something and bought a lottery ticket that’d be money better spent. anyways i was researching the different games and analyzing their odds, like i was going to crack the fucking code, when i realized i could pick random numbers and compare them to past winning drawings just to see if i was capable of picking numbers that could have won at some point. so i picked 25 sets of numbers and put them into a database that showed me all the drawings that matched any of the numbers i picked over the course of six years. like i mean if i matched one number it would come up. if i had entered every drawing shown i would have spent nearly 24 thousand dollars. the highest prize i ever reached was seven dollars. while laughing at the ridiculousness of this data alone in my living room i started coughing and acid splashed up in my stomach and burned my throat because all i ate today was a family sized bag of salt and vinegar chips.
i bought this bonsai tree growing kit for three dollars and i know nothing will probably grow, but who could beat that price, right? after i soak the seed pod for 24 hours i have to keep it in the fridge for three months to trick it into thinking winter has passed. it’s probably the biggest prank i’ll ever pull on a seed. like psych, buddy, you thought winter was over? that was the god damn crisper drawer oh shiiit.
the other day at work my coworker was going on break and asked me to go into her coat pocket and pass her a cigarette. when i was grabbing one i took it from the end that goes in your mouth and in my head i was like, “oh no, my hands aren’t clean, i’ve been handling change all day,” but then i was like “oh yeah…it’s a cigarette.” anyways if i could take a stab at cigarettes i’d repackage them so the end you light is facing up when you open a pack. that’s how i’d make cigarettes healthier.
if i’m ever talking to someone and we’re both trying to remember something and i say i’m “pretty sure” that’s code for, “i am one hundred percent sure, but i refuse to not try to look chill about it.”
a rat died in my roommate’s wall, but aren’t we all just going to die in some rat’s wall at some point? that’s life for ya. smelly, dead rat wall life.
a lot of the time at work when parents want to get their kids to behave or hurry up or something they’ll say stuff like, “don’t do that or the man will get mad,” referring to me. like they’re not getting annoyed, i am. and then the kid always looks at me with this hurt look like, “jesus christ, are you really going to get mad? i don’t even know you.” and i look at them and kind of shrug like, “i…don’t know what emotions i’m allowed to show right now. i guess i represent your mom’s anger.”
i remember once i met this couple and the girl introduced herself to me by saying, “i’m the girlfriend,” like i had only ever heard of her in that context from the guy, but i had never met the guy either, so it was confusing at first. she thought it was this big “aha” moment where i’m like, “finally a face for the name.” meanwhile i just don’t know who anyone is. i wanted to be like, “you were this close to being not the girlfriend. you could have been anything.”
i work at a children’s toy store and the number of people who refer to teethers as “chew toys” is depressingly high.