Well kids, it’s almost Friday. I say take the rest of the week off, go ahead, do it, you deserve it - and while you're at it, take Monday off too...Let’s have a mass exodus and everyone call out today…Here’s what I’ve got…
1. Gibson loves a car ride and often joins me while I’m out and about doing the work of the people. By joining me I mean, he comes along for the ride and sits in the Jeep or the van, whichever I have, knowing there's probably a drive thru and a donut in his future. Yes, I keep the windows down for him…most times we have the Jeep, and he sits comfortably in the back seat with his head hanging out a window. Sometimes he meets my elders or passersby, but most days he sits back there minding his own business perfectly happy not to engage, quietly taking in the sights and smells that the Woo has to offer. He’s been known to stop in the office now and then, but those visits are few and far between, because despite his size, he’s a big chicken. Not this week though kids, Gibson has found himself his very own therapy dog. That’s right…he himself is not a therapy dog, but now has a therapy dog of his own. Shadow was at the office when we stopped in, visiting the fine hard-working employees of Elder Services. Gibson could not have been happier to be met by Shadow who he gladly followed around the office, letting her take her chances with our scary coworkers before throwing himself in the ring. Poor Shadow had no idea she’d be leaving ESW with a best friend this week…she is a very tolerant and happy pup, and now most likely much to her dismay, Gibson’s new BFF. Exhibit 1, Gibson & Shadow.
2. Did anyone lose a turkey? We’re not talking a turkey of the hood like those we see wandering around the city streets and neighborhoods of Worcester, or the turkey that harasses Beet at Hanscom Air Force Base, but a turkey turkey, like the kind that belong on a farm. I don’t know much about foul and poultry if you will, but I do know that this guy looks like the turkey on the side of the Bell’s Seasoning Box you might find in your grandmother's pantry. This guy was found in the parking lot of a Pub in Boylston last weekend. Word on the street is his new address may now be, that of Robyn Foley, but we are still awaiting confirmation on that…we’ll let you know...
Exhibit 2, Boylston's rogue turkey running from law.
3. In addition to rogue turkey’s and therapy dogs, I found myself in Westboro this week for an appointment, an 8:30am appointment to be exact, so right out of the gate I was in a bad mood about it. As you know, that puts me at leaving the Woo right at school drop off time, and of course I was running late, which put me dead behind every single school bus ever to ride the city streets. Why you ask? Because the first mistake I made was listening to that no good, yellow bellied rat finked GPS I like to call Glenda, who always steers me wrong. Listen to her, and who knows where you’ll end up. I squealed into my appointment just a few minutes late despite Glenda's attempts at misinforming me and leading me astray in to the thick of traffic. Screw you Glenda, I got there anyway. Even still, Sue Miller would not have been happy…she taught me better than that. If you’re not early, you’re already late.
4. Despite running late, I’m still courteous to those around me. I know the simple act of being courteous and mindful of others isn’t practiced by everyone, there seems to be less and less courtesy and manners in the world, but again, trying to live by the rules taught to me by Sue Miller. I wouldn’t mention this pet peeve of mine if it didn’t seem to be happening more and more often. On this fine morning going about my business, involved taking an elevator up several flights of stairs. Doesn’t anyone follow elevator etiquette anymore? I was taught, and assumed this was common practice, to wait for those already on the elevator to exit the elevator when the doors open, before rushing on. Generally speaking, when you plow on to an elevator with no regard for those trying to exit it, you’re doing nothing but being rude and annoying. Should you do this in error, that’s okay, a simple excuse me would suffice, no harm no foul and all can go about their day. If you slam right into people with no excuse me or care in the world that you just did so, then you my friend, are an ass. Get it together people. Be courteous. It’ll only add about 2 seconds to your trip if you wait to let people off the elevator before you plow right through them to get on. #dontbeajerk
5. I made it through my appointment, no worse for the wear, despite being a little late and slightly decaffeinated. You see, when you start your day behind schedule, you miss out on that Lolly gagging time when you allow yourself to indulge in just about an entire pot of coffee before taking on the world. There’s something about the taste of your morning coffee when you enjoy it right out of your all-time favorite ceramic mug that has been strategically super glued back together…it’s just not the same as drinking it out of a travel mug when you’re speeding and going out of your way down route 9 no thanks to no good Glenda sending you that ass backwards way. I will blame this decaffeination on why I ended up heading in the wrong direction down route 9 when I left my appointment. No, not like driving down the wrong side of the road into oncoming traffic, I mean as in heading towards Boston from Westboro instead of home towards Worcester.
6. By the time I realized I wasn’t heading towards the Woo, I said, screw it. I’ve got time. I can take some time away from doing the work of the people, and I’ll grab myself a cup of nice strong coffee while I’m at it. A nice large cup of black coffee, black like my soul. I hit up Red Barn Coffee Roasters in Westboro, because by that time, I was in it to win it, and felt I wasn’t doing traffic any favors driving around without an adequate amount of caffeine running through my veins. The man serving up my coffee took one look at me and advised that I go home and go to bed early that night. Nice. I figured rather than replying, well thank you sir for pointing out that I look like s&^%, I will take that into consideration, I smiled and said that’s a good idea, thank you, and coffee in hand, off I went. One nice strong coffee and a bagel later, I hit the road in the direction of the rotary in Westboro Center and stumbled upon all sorts of options, a fork in the road if you will, or in my case, all the options a typical Massachusetts rotary has to offer. Do I head home towards the Woo, or continue on with my unsolicited, unplanned adventure? No one needs me at home at any particular time these days, so I decided to cash in on some of that personal time I’ve got accrued and off I went, again, in the opposite direction of the Woo, towards Boston.
7. Driving a long I started thinking to myself, you know what, my knees ache, my back aches, my neck aches, my a$$ aches, I need new sneakers, that’ll fix all my aches and pains, and off on my sneaker seeking adventure I went. Now I had a plan, entered The Nike Outlet at Arsenal Yards in Watertown into that disloyal misinformed GPS, and off I went. Maybe I’d even roll up on Sam while I was at it. I’m sure he’d love an unannounced visit from his mother during his busy workday, who wouldn’t? Alas, no surprise visits from Mom, Sam was safely tucked away working hard at the office…
8. Driving up and down and all around listening to Glenda, eventually found me at The Nike Outlet. You faithful readers know that I hate to shop. I despise the grocery store, hate Wal Mart and Target even more, can mildly tolerate CVS, and do what I can to avoid any kind of mall, strip mall or otherwise, yet there I was, at Arsenal Yards. A free morning, I’m left to my own devices, unattended and untethered, to go about my business as I please, and I find myself shopping. The irony of this was not lost on me people – I just about came to my senses, thinking, what the hell was I doing, when I decided I was already committed, parked in the lot, and into Nike I went.
9. Now here’s where the story gets good. I never ever ever find a bargain. I can manage to pay full price and then some even on things being given away, true story. I managed to spend only $60 and change in the Nike store. That alone would be a huge savings on one pair of sneakers, but my friends, I purchased three. Three pairs of Nike’s for sixty bucks total. No, they did not have wrong feet. They weren’t discolored. I was not seen fleeing the store with alarms and blue lights in my wake with the police on my heels. These sneakers weren’t missing laces or soles. They were my size, lovely colors, in fact, my favorite pair is the color of raspberry sherbert, and you know what? I don’t care what you all think, I love them. They’re friggin fabulous and were practically given to me for free. There were no alarms set off, or a foot chase to be had and I have the receipt to prove it. SIXTY BUCKS. If I had only used some of that money saved and bought one of WPD’s finest a new pair of socks, it would have been a win for all…
Exhibit 3, name that foot...
10. And for those keeping track, the grocery getter saw the error of his ways and Tropicana is back in stock here on our corner. See ya later Wegmans OJ - it's been real, but you are out.
And last but not least...in the event you find yourself taking a wrong turn and going completely out of your way, just go with it. You may find yourself a bargain.
Have a great weekend!
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