My Sad Life: Part MCXVII
Today I was caught carrying a twelve pack of Sam Adams and four sticks of butter into the bachelor cave. I was caught carrying these two fine products and nothing else because these were the only two things I bought, and this was the only time I had left the apartment all day, so this was a perfect time for an attractive woman my own age to start a conversation. I had not showered for a few days, but decided (deftly, I must admit) that I should not share this information if it weren’t obvious enough already. I mean, I was going to Hannaford’s for five minutes, not the opera! Jeez, cut me a break here!
The conversation ended with me saying: “If you ever want to eat a stick a butter and drink a beer, you know where to find me,” which, I think sets the record for saddest attempt at a hook-up, nay, even friendship in the history of human contact. The romantic scenario I had offered, of course, would have never happen anyway. My situation is much direr (this is a word?) than mere social awkwardness. I’ve been buying groceries one at a time for weeks. That’s how I know I have NOT reached merely a level of pecuniary poverty, but rather I have cashed in all the “fucks” I can give for this summer. I need to get some shit together.
As I write this, my floor is covered with the following things:
- A 1,000 piece puzzle featuring Snoopy.
- A large family sized bag of frozen Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.
- A stack of Nintendo Wii games.
Now, I’m not saying that I’M a child molester, just that if one were looking for a good place to sublet, my place would not be a hard sell. I am five years old.
