I went to the store to grab a sack of cat food on the way home from work, because I didn’t want to be making that trip tonight as more, ahem, well-lubricated drivers hit the roads. 2013 has taken so many potshots at me that, in these waning hours of this accursed year, it’s almost easy to see where the next shot would come from. I carried my sack of cat food up to the register, and didn’t notice until handing it over to the hapless register guy who scanned it that there was a split in the side. A comet tail of cat food poured out of the little hole. The following conversation ensued, during which I kept my face as straight as possible.
- Me: Wow. That normally doesn’t happen until the sack’s been home with the cats for ten minutes. They’ve never done it while I’m still in the store.
- Register Guy: I wonder how that happened.
- Me: Explanation’s obvious. Invisible cats who can travel back in time.
- Register Guy: . . .
- Me (looking off into distance) Time traveling invisible cats. We’re so screwed. (snaps out of it) So, I can get a different sack that doesn’t have a hole in it, right?
- Register Guy: Um… yeah, hang on, I’ll call somebody.
I should point out that, by now, he was looking at me like I’d just grown both a third and fourth nostril right in front of him. Earlier that same day
in Gotham City while I was leaving work:
- Co-Worker: Don’t get too tipsy tonight, Earl.
- Me: Nah, I’m totally gonna crash on the couch at about 11:45, covered with kittens.
- Co-Worker: Wow, livin’ on the edge!
- Me: You’re right. Probably more like 10:30. YOLO.
Farewell, 2013. You took your best shot(s). I STILL WIN.