Category Archives: Random Story

Merry Christmas 2018

I wake up on Christmas, out of smokes.  I throw on my sweats, stocking cap, try to find something that’s open.  There’s a convenience store on High Street, I drive that way.

I go in, get some smokes, say Merry Christmas to the clerk, leave.

As I’m pulling out, I see a co-worker from the hotel, getting out of his car.  I roll down my window.  What’s up, my man!  He comes up to the car, says hello.  I say, what are you up to today?  You having dinner with the family?  He says, no…this is a tough time for me.  I don’t have any family.  Just a sister, and she doesn’t live here.  

That just breaks my heart.

Couple hours later, I’m in the car, driving to Cedar Rapids, to be with my family.  I think of him, and all those that don’t have family to be with on Christmas.  I feel extra lucky.  I’m not a HUGE fan of Christmas, but try to be a trooper about it.  But I do know that I would be super depressed if I wasn’t able to spend it with my family.  

So here’s to those who don’t have family to spend with on Christmas.  I feel for you.  And to those that do, take a moment out of your day to appreciate the gift of having a family to spend the day with, and think good thoughts for those that are less fortunate. 

Merry Christmas 2018.  God bless.

-Clint

 

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How To Make Your Dance Card Full

I’m chatting with a buddy over a cigar today, he’s a single guy, and we get to talking about the dating scene. He alluded to me that he’s temporarily “given up” due to the burden of rejection. 

I think it’s really simple, and can be compared to sales. At one point in my life, I was selling onsite training to companies over the phone. I was given “leads,” but it was basically a telemarketing job. From that job, I learned an important lesson. If you make 30 calls in a day, you’re going to get two hot leads. But if you make 60 calls, you might get five leads. And so on. The more calls, the more chances at a sale. 

And it’s the same thing with the dating life. The more you attempt, the better chance you have to succeed. I know the rejection is tough, but a lot of it is timing. You may have had a chance, but they just got into a relationship.  If you just keep on “making those calls,” and NOT take the rejection personally, soon you will be flush with love, and as my friend Daniel W says, your dance card will be full.

-Clint

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GIVE LADIES FRONT POCKETS

I’ve always wondered at the phenomenon behind why women keep their cell phones in their back pocket.  What if you forget about it, and sit down on a hard surface?  Crack.  There goes the cell phone, gotta hit up the mall, at one of those kiosks.

That’s a weird word.  Kiosk.  Sounds Native American.

That reminds me.  Never make eye-contact with people at a mall kiosk.  They’ll sucker you in with a beckoning smile, and there goes spending $500 on some skin cream.

I digest.

I’m mean, digress.

So yeah, ladies with their cell phones in their back pockets.  What’s up with that?  Ah…but then I had an enlightening conversation with the opposite sex, and she informed me that women’s pants usually have no front pocket.  What?  No front pockets, you say?  Why is that?

And then the answer becomes clear.  If you don’t have front pockets, where do you put your cell phone?  Well…in your back pocket.  Duh.

These designers of women’s clotherie need to get together, and figure out how to make these front pockets happen for the ladies.  Maybe they just haven’t figured it out yet.  I know those guys have those front pockets, why can’t we!  It’s SEXUAL DISCRIMINATION.  I mean, they said we’ve come a long way, baby.  We get to vote.  We get to work jobs.  But where’s OUR front pockets?!?

I mean, it can’t be that difficult, can it?  Make the pants, then put the pockets on it.  Think of all the cell phone screens those front pockets will save.  They won’t have to make all those trips

TO THE KIOSKS!!!!

-Clint

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Where’s The Wave?

It’s 8 in the morning, I’m driving the kids to school.  I stop at the stoplight on 44th, and Franklin, there’s a car in front of me, with their left turn signal on.  The light turns green, and I wave to the person in front of me, that they can go first.  She does so, then I take a right, following behind her.

We’re driving halfway down the block, and I realize, I didn’t get “the wave.”  You know, when someone is kind enough to let you go in front of them, you give them the wave.  I am a staunch supporter of the wave, and practice it religiously.  Not only will I wave, but I go as far as rolling my window down, sticking my arm out, and dramatically wave my hand, just to show how EXTRA appreciative I am for their kindness.  But with this woman…WHERE’S THE WAVE?!?  Nada.  Nothing.  WHO does she think she is, not giving the wave?  Taking my enormous generosity for granted. She may have been sitting at the light an extra 4 seconds if it wasn’t for me.  For all I know, she may have been almost late for work, and because of ME, she won’t be now.  How RUDE!

I get the kids to school early, I pull up in front of the school.  Good luck, have fun.  No dad, pull around to the back of the school, drop us off.  Why?  You got two legs, get out and walk 30 feet!  No dad, just go.

These people.  You know when I was young, I walked four miles…in the snow…

Yada, yada, yada.

-Clint

Men Sharing Dessert

I’m at lunch today with my old boss Amedeo Rossi. The man of the hour, Mr. 80/35. We’re at HoQ, a “farm-to-table” restaurant in the East Village.

Our server comes over. What would you guys like? I say, I’ll have the lamb Gyro. Deo says, I’ll have the same.

C’mon, bro. We can’t get the same thing! Peeps be getting ideas about us.

The server says, you guys ok with the fries? I’m like, yeah, perfect, love the fries, but then Deo says, how about…could I get some salad?

Great. He pulls the old, I’m gonna eat something HEALTHY. I CAN’T EAT THE FRIES WHEN MY BRO BE EATING THE SALAD.

Dang it. Yeah get me the salad, too. Sheesh.

The salad comes, and, guess what?!? The salad be having BEETS in it. Homey don’t play that. Beets be super nast. I can’t even stand smelling beets, I’m out the door.

Deo, you want my beets?

He says, nah. I don’t like beets.

We eat. We talk. We’re like old grannies playing Bridge gossiping. Where dah men at?!?!

(Looks around)

Not here!

We finish the meal, our server comes over. You want some dessert? Dessert? Deo says, no thanks. I’m like, hell, yeah! I want CAKE. Bring two forks.

(Hm…is it ok for two heterosexual men to share a dessert? Fuk it. I don’t care.)

The dessert comes, and we dig in like piggies at a trough.

On my third bite, there’s a long hair in the dessert. I hold the fork aloft to Deo.

There’s………a hair.

Deo grabs the hair delicately, tosses the hair to the ground.

I ask, understandably, do we finish it?

As MEN do in this situation, we MEN shrug our shoulders,

And dig back in.

-Clint

 

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You’re Welcome

I’m at Horizon Coffee Shop in glorious Downtown Des Moines.  I have a Caramel Latte, hang out for a couple hours doing work.  I get done, pack up my bag, grab my empty coffee cup, take it up to the counter, set it down.  The Hipster Barista with a Beard says, thanks, man.  I look at him in the eye, and say, you’re welcome.  As if I had just done this monumental thing for him.

I like to do that to people.  When they say “thank you” by rote, I like to say, you’re welcome.  As if I had just saved their puppy from being hit on I-235.  It’s a hilarious thing to do.  Especially when someone is saying the thank you, and they’re not deep in it.  So the “you’re welcome” comes off a bit extravagant.  When in the past I’ve said thank you, and someone gave me the you’re welcome, as if they’ve done this great deed, I’ve wanted to say, you know what, bud? Relax with the you’re welcome.  I just said thank you because I have to.  I could’ve picked up your damn empty coffee cup myself.

-Clint

 

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