Lightbulb Confusion

It’s not like me to procrastinate.  I was afraid.  Just thinking about what I had to do caused my heart to quicken.  

But it was time to face my fears.

I found a parking spot at Lowes and reluctantly left my car.  Walking very slowly.

I took a deep breath.  I could do it. 

With a sense of dread I entered the store. There it was.  Larger than life.  The length of 5 football fields.

The Light bulb aisle. 

Sweat formed on my brow as I pulled the sheet of paper from my pocket.  Type A.  40 watt.

Where, oh where were they hiding?

I was not alone in my misery.  There were other shoppers standing there.  Transfixed.  As if watching an episode of I am Cait on E! TV.

I began to methodically search the aisles.  Bottom to top.  One step to the right.  Top to bottom.  One step to the right.  Bottom to top.........

 Hours later I got to the end of the aisle and was getting hungry. 

I had no choice but to ask for help.  I stopped an employee. Let’s call him “Bruce.”

“Can you help me find a light bulb?” I asked politely.

“Sure.  LED or CFL?”  Bruce asked.

“Not the kind that looks like intestines," I said.  "I want one that looks like a light bulb.   You know?  Like an idea lightbulb.”

Bruce considered my answer.  “How many Lumens?”

Since I had no idea what a Lumen was, I said, “I guess 40.  Or 5,425.” 

Bruce nodded and asked me what it was for.   “Ooh-Ooh!  It’s for a lamp,” I said, pleased that I knew one of the answers. 

“Does it screw in or push into the socket?”  Bruce asked. 

I was back on thin ice. “You push it in and screw it.  Righty-tighty I think.  Because left- loosy would make it loose, right?”

Bruce nodded and started looking around to see if there were any other customers he could help.  Then I remembered the piece of paper in my pocket.

“Ooh-Ooh!”  I said, tapping on the paper.  “I need type A- 40 watt.”

Bruce walked down the aisle, reached up and handed me a light bulb that was, much to my delight, shaped like a light bulb.  “Here you go, Ma ‘am,” he said. 

“Thanks!” I said, as he started to walk away.   “Wait….I’ve got one more question for you.”
 
Then, sounding a lot like Jack Nicholson in Terms of Endearment Bruce said, “I was this close to a clean get-away.”

OK, so he didn’t really say that.  But he looked like he was thinking it.   Instead he said, “What?”

I said, “How many people does it take to change a light bulb?”  

He stopped in his tracks.  "How many?"

"Half as many as it takes to buy one."

The Unfortunate Greeting

Perhaps I was in too big of a hurry.  Or too lazy to pick up the Voice Mail instruction manual.   Doesn’t really matter how or why it happened.  

The outcome was undeniable: The Worst Voicemail Greeting Ever.

I was heading out on vacation.  I called voice mail and did exactly what the voice mail lady told me to do.  Push 2 to record my greeting.

Take 1: “Hi, this is Lou.  I’m going to be out of the office until um.. um..CRAP”
 
I pulled up out my calendar to check the dates.

Take 2: “Hi, this is Lou.  I’ll be out of the office until June 14.  If you need help. I mean if this is an emergency.  Work emergency. CRAP!!”
 
Take 3: “This is Lou. I’m out of the office until June 14.  If this is an emergency push 0 to speak to my secretary Heidi I mean administrative assistant.  GRRRRRRRRRRRRR.  This is ridiculous!”
 
Take 4: “Hi this is Heidi.  I mean CRAP CRAP CRAP!!!”

I took a deep breath, wrote my greeting down on a sheet of paper and read it to the voice mail lady.

Take 5: “Hi this is Lou.  I’ll be out of the office until Monday June 14.   If you need immediate assistance press 0 to speak with Heidi, my administrative assistant.  Thanks.”
 
I guess it was several weeks before I received THE MESSAGE from Lori at our Advertising Agency.  And to her delight, she was able to listen to my voice mail greeting one last time before leaving THE MESSAGE.

“Lou, this is Lori.  I just wanted to let you know how much we all loved your voice mail greeting.  We all called again and again- just to listen to it.  It was hysterical.  I mean, I probably called about ten times myself.  Even our SVP, who has absolutely no sense of humor, got a kick out of it.  Although I think my hairdresser liked it more than anyone.   She told me she laughed until she peed her pants.  At any rate, give me a call when you have a minute.”

What was she talking about?  I called myself on my phone.  It was my normal greeting.  Did she call the wrong number?

Then I remember the latest voice mail feature, allowing for separate greetings for inside and outside calls.  Uh-oh.

This was in the dinosaur pre-cell phone era so I had to run to the lobby of our building and call myself from a phone booth.  (Remember those things?)

My stomach sank as I listened to my greeting.

"Hi, this is Lou.  I’m going to be out of the office until um.. um..CRAP! Hi, this is Lou.  I’ll be out of the office until June 14.  If you need help. I mean if this is an emergency.  Work emergency. CRAP!!  This is Lou. I’m out of the office until June 14.  If this is an emergency push 0 to speak to my secretary Heidi I mean administrative assistant. GRRRRRRRRRRRRR.   This is ridiculous!!!  Hi this is Heidi.  I mean CRAP CRAP CRAP!!!  Hi this is Lou.  I’ll be out of the office until Monday June 14.   If you need immediate assistance press 0 to speak with Heidi, my administrative assistant.  Thanks.”
 
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
 
I made it back to my office in about 10 seconds and deleted that external greeting faster than you can say “I need to change my identity and move to Argentina.”

Although for me, that voice mail greeting was unarguably The Worst Voicemail Greeting Ever, the fine folks at the advertising agency, all their friends, neighbors, extended family, and probably even Kevin Bacon, thought it was the BEST.

The Picture

“Is this you?” the guy at Muv Fitness asked, as he attempted to turn his computer screen in my direction.  “It doesn’t look like you.”

 
I was on the other side of the counter and since his computer screen was more than 2 inches from my nose, I couldn’t see it.  “I don’t know.  I can’t see it.”

The guy, let’s call him “Chad” looked back and forth between the screen and me. “Yeah, it’s you.  I think.  See?”

I couldn’t.

Muv Fitness had recently acquired my Gold’s Gym.  Chad was trying to convert my Gold’s key card to Muv and had to be 100% positive that I was the person on the screen.

“It looks like you’re wearing a horse t-shirt,” he observed.   “Do you have a horse t-shirt?  But I’m not sure it’s you.”
 
“Must be me.  I’ve got a horse t-shirt.”
 
“But it doesn’t look like you.  Well, it kind of does.”
 
I decided to take the bull by the horns.  “Can I walk behind the counter and look?”
 
He said, “Sure!!”
 
When I got to the computer I screamed in horror.  

Yes it was me, but I looked like I’d just stepped out of a box under the thru-way where I’d been living for 5 years.

All I could say was, “That’s not a horse.  That’s the Beast,” pathetically adding, “From Beauty and the Beast.”
 
But in my head I was thinking about the countless numbers of Gold’s Gym employees who have been looking at that picture every time I walked through the doors of that damn gym.  And comparing the picture to me.  And probably thinking, "She must be here for her monthly shower."

Chad said, “You look way better now.”  He was trying hard.  He added, “You look like you’ve gotten in better shape,” although I’m not sure how he could possibly conclude that from looking at the head shot of a street person.

I said, “Would you mind taking a new picture of me?”
 
Chad willingly agreed.  (He most-likely realized that he would not only be doing me a favor, but those who would no longer be exposed to the original.)

My new photo was 10000000% better than the old one. 

Before leaving, I thanked Chad for telling me that I didn’t look like my picture.  

And for giving me a blog topic. 

Then I grabbed my grocery cart..

 and headed back home.

The Elimination

I’m now into the third and final week of the “elimination” phase of my stupid diet.  

And, although I’ve lost my muffin top, I’d sell my soul for a muffin top.

For 15 days I have been eating like an animal.  More specifically an animal living in the damn Rain Forest.  

Seriously.  Like I could have a pot luck dinner with a Tapir.  No problem.  We eat the same thing.  But if the Ornate Lorikeet joins us I'll have to make sure he doesn't slip any insects or grubs into his casserole.
 

(Although, insects and grub are probably permitted on this stupid diet.)

Sadly, we Rain Forest Herbivores cannot eat Bellacino’s Pizza.  

Or White Bean Chili with a big dollop of Sour Cream.  

Or Raisin Bagels with Honey Nut cream cheese.  

Or Tin Roof Sundae Ice Cream with Hershey’s topping.  

Or Publix Cakes with Buttercream Frosting.

Or wine.

Sigh.

Less than a week left to when I can start re-introducing foods into my poor emaciated body. 

I just hope I have enough energy left to lift a steaming hot piece of pizza to my poor withered lips.  

I may even invite my Rain Forest buddies. I hope they like Chadonnay.  

tart?