Made Me Laugh
Some things that struck me as amusing the last few days:
A huge motorhome barreling down the highway, pulling a Toyota Prius. It just seemed sort of absurd, like washing down your box of donuts with diet soda.
A salesman at a car dealership, tying balloons to the cars in his lot as a means of attracting customers. He’s just wrapping the string of a balloon around the car’s aerial, when it slips from his fingers and rises into the sky. He looks up and stamps his foot just like he did when losing a balloon as a kid.
A little boy learning to swim at the hotel’s pool with his grandma. She tells him to practice swimming in the kiddie pool—which is actually the hot tub. He jumps in and dog paddles across it while she claps appreciatively.
A drunk young woman with her two friends—a boy and a girl—on a streetcorner last night. The friends are making out; the drunk girl keeps saying, “No way! Wherever we’re going next, we’re going together!” The friends keep kissing, ignoring her.
A teenager inside the Lava River cave, checking his cellphone to see if he has service. Then, he calls his friend a few hundred feet ahead to tell him that he does.
Me in the cave, turning down the propane lamp I rented to see how dark and quiet it is with the lamp off. I then realize I can’t turn it back on without a match, which I don’t have.
Me, unplugging the little refrigerator in my hotel room because it’s too noisy. The next morning, I notice a big puddle of water around it from all the ice that’s defrosted.
The dozen—at least—bungie cords I saw lying along the road between Bend and Sisters, another one every few miles. There’s a story to each of them, I’m sure, but one that’s probably not funny to the person who lost it.
A huge motorhome barreling down the highway, pulling a Toyota Prius. It just seemed sort of absurd, like washing down your box of donuts with diet soda.
A salesman at a car dealership, tying balloons to the cars in his lot as a means of attracting customers. He’s just wrapping the string of a balloon around the car’s aerial, when it slips from his fingers and rises into the sky. He looks up and stamps his foot just like he did when losing a balloon as a kid.
A little boy learning to swim at the hotel’s pool with his grandma. She tells him to practice swimming in the kiddie pool—which is actually the hot tub. He jumps in and dog paddles across it while she claps appreciatively.
A drunk young woman with her two friends—a boy and a girl—on a streetcorner last night. The friends are making out; the drunk girl keeps saying, “No way! Wherever we’re going next, we’re going together!” The friends keep kissing, ignoring her.
A teenager inside the Lava River cave, checking his cellphone to see if he has service. Then, he calls his friend a few hundred feet ahead to tell him that he does.
Me in the cave, turning down the propane lamp I rented to see how dark and quiet it is with the lamp off. I then realize I can’t turn it back on without a match, which I don’t have.
Me, unplugging the little refrigerator in my hotel room because it’s too noisy. The next morning, I notice a big puddle of water around it from all the ice that’s defrosted.
The dozen—at least—bungie cords I saw lying along the road between Bend and Sisters, another one every few miles. There’s a story to each of them, I’m sure, but one that’s probably not funny to the person who lost it.
posted by Professor Dave at 10:09 AM
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