Bachelor Week: Day One!

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Sit down and buckle up kids, if this day is any indication about the rest of the week, I might die before Wednesday.

The toilet paper story

In the morning I figured that I needed some food to survive the week, after the Kidless Week, I felt like I would enjoy eating in instead of going out every single night. So I got up at 6:00 to spend some time with LovelyWife. She left around 7:00 and I proceeded with my morning routine (food, shower and all that fun stuff). I also made a list for the grocery shop visit. I used to be a boy-scout.

Shopping for food was uneventful, until I got back to the car and started to unload the items from the cart. I noticed that I had forgotten to pay for the 50 jumbo roll pack of toilet paper I got. In my defence, it was neatly tucked underneath the cart, the cashier never asked if I had anything left under the cart and well, nobody noticed. So I did what any decent man would do. I sat in my car and Tweeted this:

Great! I’ve been by myself for less than 2 hours an I already commited a crime. Heading back to the grocery store to pay for the TP I stole.

Notice how I misspelled committed to fit in 140 characters? I am that brilliant. My next Tweet about this story came 70 minutes later:

Show of hands: Who knew that returning to pay for that TP would generate a much more interesting post than just driving off with the TP?

Please take a minute to let that sink in. An hour and ten minutes later. It took me an hour and ten minutes to pay for toilet paper.

I walked back in and went to the same cashier and waited in line a bit. When I got to her, I told her that I had some toilet paper under my cart that we both didn’t notice, and long story short I wanted to pay for the toilet paper. She asked me if I wanted to return toilet paper. I said I didn’t that I was trying to pay for toilet paper. She sent me to the customer service area.

I waited in line a bit more. When it got to my turn, I explained – bill in hand –  that I had a toilet paper problem, and that I would like to pay for the toilet paper that is already in my car. The cashier told me that if I wanted to return toilet paper, I should bring it in the store.

::blink::

“I am not trying to get money, I am trying to give you money.”

“Oh. Let me get a manager.” she said.

::sigh::

So I waited a little longer for the manager to show up. I kept thinking: How does one gets in that much sh*t from toilet paper, really? The irony was not lost on me, and I probably looked like an idiot standing there giggling to myself. When the manager finally showed up she immediately said:

“I am told you want to return toilet paper but you didn’t bring it back in. We won’t give you money if you don’t return the item sir”. She actually called me sir. Over a toilet paper issue. I started to laugh. I explained the story again. I might have acted some of the parts with funny gestures and voices. I danced a little. It was great. She got it, we shared a laugh and she said that she’d send one of the runners to get the same item from the shelves so they can ring it up. She apologized for the confusion.

I said: “You know, I’ve been trying to pay for this for about an hour now. I think I might have to return the ice cream I bought – it’s been sitting in the car for an hour now.”

“Well, just make sure you bring that in when you want money back for it.” She replied.

So a runner was sent to the toilet paper aisle, and found a gateway to the fifth dimension never to be seen again (I admit that’s just a guess). Toujours est-il que after 10 minutes of just standing around waiting to pay for frakkin’ toilet paper, I asked the cashier if it was all right if I went to get the item myself, and I did. Came back to the client services area, paid for TP, walked out empty-handed to my car.

Now if you believe the story is over, you are sadly mistaken.

As I’m walking to my car, I hear from somewhere behind me – closing in fast: “Sir! SIR! SIIIIIIR!”

It’s the runner. He’s running towards me. He’s carrying a 50 jumbo roll pack of toilet paper.

“You forgot your toilet paper.” He hands me the toilet paper. I thought here we go again. So I looked him in the eyes and said:

“Thank you.”

And that is how I got 100 jumbo rolls of toilet paper from the store for the price of 50. The ice cream was okay.

Funny people

I saw Funny People at 12:15. It was an awesome movie. However, the movie-going experience was… Weird? Here’s what I Tweeted at 2:52, coming out of the movie:

Hahahahahahaha! Just had the weirdest movie-going experience at “funny people”. Old people are strange.

When I go to the movies, I like my experience to be as enjoyable as possible. I like to watch a movie in silence, I can’t stand talkers / loud chewers / people who walk in front of you 3-4 times during the movie, and so on. When I go to the moves by myself, I enjoy the peace and quiet moments. I think most people are okay movie-goers. For example, I got in the theater about 20 minutes before the movie started. I took my favorite spot (first row of the second tier – so I can stretch my legs – smack dab in the center of the screen. The way this room is configured, I had two seats to my left (I used that cup holder for my drink and set my Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups on the seat. To my right was one seat, then a missing seat, then 2 more seats.

seats1

A few minutes later, two guys walked in the theater and proceeded to grab seats all the way at the back of the theater.

So there’s a total of 3 people in the theater, and I’m guessing a total of almost 300 seats.

In walks that little old grandma. She stands at the edge of the room looking at the slide show that’s playing on the screen. She makes her way to the center of the room, all the while looking at the screen. She’s trying to figure where th optimal viewing seat is, but I’m already sitting in it. Haha! I thought.

Of course, after a little side to side shuffling, she stops RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. She turns around and looks surprised to see me there. OK, now I am not going to write her dialogue in ALL CAPS, but just know that this little grandma only spoke in caps.

“oh, she yelled, I didn’t see you there, sorry.”

I smiled and continued eating my fries.

“Do you mind if I sit there?” She pointed to the seat to my right. The one right between me and the busted seat.

“Are you stark raving mind you old fuck? There’s about 296 other seats that you could sit in, and I certainly don’t want to be playing the share the armrest game with a 90 year-old senile citizen. You gotta be kidding me!”

Well, this is what I should have said. Instead, I did what a nice – but albeit smart ass – guy like me does. I looked around the theater and said: “I guess if you can’t find any other seat, that would be okay.”

She didn’t get it. She sat down RIGHT NEXT TO ME. She made me hold her popcorn and drink while she sat down.

I was dumbfounded. I heard the guys in the back laugh. I contemplated my options. I could move, I could just stay quiet and watch the movie. I chose to stay quiet. The slide show was still playing – about 10 minutes left before the beginning of the movie. They were showing celebrity birthdays. John Travolta was making a comment about Tom Hanks.

“Do you remember him in “Welcome back, Cotter”?”

I laughed and lied that I didn’t, never taking my eyes off the screen. That should keep her quiet.

“That’s right you are too young to remember him. I live just around the corner on Atmosphere. Do you live nearby?”

I grunted a “yeah” and continued eating my fries.

“Is that a poutine? I love poutine!!”

“No, they’re just fries”. Sigh.

“You know where the poutine is good around these parts? It’s at the “Pâterie Hullaise”.

“You mean the “Pataterie Hulloise”. I corrected her.

“Yes! You know them? My grandson loves their poutine. He told me Grandma, I love their poutine. True story.”

At this point I figured this was someone I knew just fucking with me. After all, I met a lot of older folks when I worked my previous job – the average student age was 53 – and I turned to get a good look at my impromptu date. I hoped it was someone I knew. Nope, no luck. Didn’t know her. Didn’t ring a bell. But I had a bigger problem now: I made eye contact.

“My grandson came to see me in the hospital once and told me he could speak French. I told him to talk to grandma in French and he said “Je vais bien – I feel fine”. True story.”

“That’s nice”.

“Are you married? Do you have children?”

“Why? Are you interested?” I should really learn to shut my mouth. At this point the previews start and she quiets down. I thought I was out of the woods. When the first preview ended – I forget what it was, some sort of romance thing with Jennifer Aniston and a guy – motormouth started again:

“I loved her in Friends. My son says he doesn’t believe in G-O-D but he keeps giving me prayer beads and stuff like that.”

“Well that’s because YOU believe.”

“That’s what my daughter says!!!!!” Five exclamation marks. The signs of a disturbed mind.

“You daughter is really smart.”

“She is really smart. When she was a little kid she told me “When I am older, I will be a lawyer. And when I am really really old, I will be a judge”.

“And is she a lawyer now?” Why am I moving this conversation along? Please someone shoot me now. I really am a nice guy.

“She will be soon I hope! I hear this movie is a comedy and is supposed to be really funny. My son saw it on the Internet and said it was funny. Do you know what the Internet is?”

“No” I lied as I’m looking at Twitter and Facebook on my Blackberry.

“My son tells me it’s like a series of tubes. True Story”.

I busted out laughing. Surly this is someone I know just fucking with me. I hoped it would be Craig, Peter or Bossman in drag. Damn, still no luck. It’s just an old woman.

So the movie starts, and she talks during the opening credits. At one point she said:

“Well that is not really funny.”

And I thought: Lady these are only the opening credits. I turned to her and said:

“The movie has started now, I’d like to listen.”

And she kept quiet. For about ten minutes. Then there was a song that came on in a scene.

“Do you like Beck? My daughter loves Beck!”

I completely lost it. And by that I mean that I turned to her and went like this:

“SSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!”

After that she was quiet. Instead of talking, she started to walk around the theater. She even opened the door to the outside to get some fresh air. She was fucking annoying. She made a few other comments to herself throughout the movie. I tried to ignore most of them.

“This guy lost weight”

“Oh that’s the guy who punched Bob Barker”

“The language is terrible!”

Well that last one I couldn’t let go. I turned to her and yelled “FUCK YEAH!”.

The movie ended, and she left without even saying goodbye. After all the good times we had? What a bitch. Pfffffft.

Stand-up Comedy

I also went to a stand-up comedy show that night. It was awesome. After all I wrote up there, I’m a little tired and in need of an extra Scotch so that’s all you’re getting on that. 😉

And thus concluded Bachelor Week Day One.

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15 comments

  1. Weird. I just read a post from another Canadian blogger I frequent. His story was about going to see that same movie with a friend and they sat all the way in the back. He had told his friend beforehand about the Ghost of Moviehouse and that she could sometimes be seen roaming the aisles an sitting next to people.

    They then watched this guy, content in finding the perfect viewing spot, sit there and keep talking to himself here and there. They weren’t worried at first because he was just talking to himself during the slide show and a littl bit during the previews. Then he loudly sssssshhhhhhed! to his side and yelled a few profanities.

    His buddy was disappointed that he didn’t get to see anything about the ghost lady.
    .-= whall´s last blog ..MARCH! =-.

  2. @Becky: You’d be surprised. :mrgreen:

    @Avitable: What if you played with yourself and she moved the WRONG WAY? I was scared of that.

    @Whall: Hold me.

    @SheilaCSR: Loblaws.

  3. @Ren: The funny thing is that I tried to vlog this, but couldn’t stop laughing long enough to do it. :mrgreen:

    @Janelle: Sorry to make you seem crazy-er at work. 😉

  4. @Sybil Law: You’re more than welcome to spell spam on my blog anytime you want. 😛

    @MartyMankins: Oh, don’t leave me hanging! Share the story that beats mine! 😉

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