The Wife and I were driving home from work last night when suddenly I realized we were out PBR.
“Honey, we have one beer left in the ‘fridge. This isn’t happening.” I swerved across two lanes of traffic and pulled into the darkest, shadiest convenience mart you’ve ever seen. I leapt from the car, darted inside and grabbed a case of beer with all the feline grace you’d expect from a man who spends all day making pretty on the computer.
An unmentionable sea hag with kelp-brown hair came shambling into the store and asked the clerk if he had any matches. “No, I don’t have any,” replied the predictably Asian man. He gave her a healthy dose of stink eye as she left. In fact, he seemed unable to look away at all. Jesus man, I thought to myself. She’s just an unruly ocean troll; it’s not like she tried to steal your horde of magic seashells.
I paid for the beer, turned to leave and that’s when I saw it; my wife, having exited our car with the passenger door open and the engine still running, using her supple German body to block a huge van from exiting the parking lot. The clerk hadn’t been staring at that hideous tide nymph at all — he was watching a massive camper van sideswipe my car.
The Wife was visibly shaken — a deadly mix of fear and anger upon her visage — while the two young girls inside the van were truly stunned. I would find out later they’d tried to drive away without being caught; my wife jumped out of the car and blocked their path, exclaiming, “Stop! You have to stay here until my husband comes back!” Of course, when I replay this in my head, she’s dressed like the Baroness from G.I. Joe, menacing a couple of bikini-clad teenagers with a leather riding crop, bellowing, “HALT! You vill remayne oontil mine hüzbint unt hiz pendulous nutsack reemerge from ze store.”
Though fearful, the girls were quick to profess their helplessness. “We don’t have any money,” stated the driver. “We’re from Lebanon.” And yes, I paused for a moment to wonder if she meant the Lebanon which borders Syria, rather than the Lebanon outside of Salem, Oregon, but I recovered and asked for her insurance information.
“We don’t have that,” came her reply. “What do we do now?”
“We call the cops,” I replied, snapping a picture of her license plate. That was right about when they produced some semblance of insurance coverage; a receipt for an auto insurance payment made by their stepfather last year. I took down all of the information, waved goodbye and asked them to drive carefully.
Turning back to my car, I saw the aforementioned sea hag peering closely at the scrape running the length of my driver side door. “Oh, you can probably buff that out,” she said in her ancient maritime tongue, poking at the paint.
“Don’t touch that!” cried my wife, slapping away her horrible webbed fingers.
“We’ve got this under control,” I chimed.
The Wife and I proceeded home, vowing never to return to that convenience mart, with its abundance of sea people and delicious Pabst Blue Ribbon, for surely thar be Pabst in fresher waters. Yarr.
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But did the hag ever get her matches???
HAW HAW! She did not.
Not sure exactly how I found my way to your blog. Just passing away some idle moments while the kiddies do their homework and looking to see what other people are blogging about.
You are freaking hilarious! Sign me up!
Curse you and your irresistably noticable Gravatar. Now I must read all das blog.
LOL. Funny. Good job for your wife!
It’s odd also that you mentioned PBR. We just talked about that in my communications class the other day and how they have marketed in the past. Whatever ideas arise it has worked. They are still making sales!
Ha hahahaa…Good story!
Thanks for stopping by my blog so that I could find you! I truly enjoyed this, although I am sorry you managed to get your car scratched in order for me to enjoy it. Love the visual of the Baroness too!
I thoroughly enjoyed your blog. I’ll stop back again for more tales of sea trolls and German women in super-hero tights. :)
just found your blog. I am enjoying the ride, have read from the top to here and visit daily.
just one curiosity – you are married to a woman from a land that produces some if not the most delicious beer and you still drink PBR?
Right on! That’s so cool you visit our site so often! Thank you!
And yes… *sigh* I do drink PBR. My wife doesn’t like it though. :) But I will be drinking real German beer soon enough!
Have a fantastic day and thank you for the comment!
I’d kill to be half as funny as you. Pissing myself laughing. (not really…)