Monosyllabic Pedantry

Monday, May 22, 2006

What the...?

I wake up. It's dark. Looking around. This new couch is comfortable. I can stretch out on it. The front door is wide open. I sit up and look around. Phew! Zachary is lying on the floor in the kitchen. I'm naked. I look for the time, but the DVD player is upstairs now. I put my foot on the floor and find a puddle of something. Beer or water. Maybe both, like Coors Light.
I go upstairs. Mrs Schwartz is asleep on the big, new bed. It's 5:15. I start piecing together yesterday.

The move went perfectly. My two friends showed up at about 11am. Mrs Schwartz had already moved everything but the big stuff. She had reserved a 16' truck. We loaded everything into one trip. Then we laid around on the new furniture and watched the new 60" tv until the booze ran out. I had argued with Mrs Schwartz that we could drop off the truck at any time, since they had a drop box for the keys. She had insisted that we drop it off before we go to the bar. Chalk up another victory for her brilliant intellect. She's a wise woman.

Then we went to my local watering hole. I was buying, as payment for the labor. My friend Johnny was trying to convince the 21 year-old waitress to run away with him. (Do they only hire hotties at this place?) After that, it's kind of a blur. The only clue is the $106.00 credit card receipt, I just found in my wallet.

Mrs Schwartz tells me that I called my friend George at some point, and that George was begging to get off the phone. I don't know what time that was, but it must be true, since I found my phone out on the deck before I left for work.

I also talked with Johnny's mom. I remember we arranged for the Mrs and I to stay with her in Alabama next weekend. She makes moonshine for living. Really. She does.

I will pass on further details, like how I got naked, and did I leave the house that way, as soon as I learn them.


  • 60" TV? You've been holding out on me.
    I'm confused and excited as to which is a more promising development, the return of The Mrs. or the New TV.

    By Anonymous Sarcastro, at 6:56 AM  

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