How to Tip a Belly Dancer

I've never been to a strip club.

Almost.

My wife and I were strolling along the Riverwalk on our honeymoon. There's a ton of restaurants down there, and we were trying to decide what to have for dinner.

A gentleman in a tuxedo stopped us and asked if we'd like to dine in his fine Italian establishment.

"It's small and cozy, just what a honeymooning couple like yourselves is looking for."

We decided to take a chance and accepted his invitation.

There were only about 5 tables in the entire place. It was quiet and the food was delicious. We couldn't have been happier with our choice.

Then the music started, softly at first.

"That's a lot of cowbell for one song", I thought to myself.

My back was to the rest of the room. Jana was facing into the room, and I saw her eyes go wide.

I turned my head to see what started her, and got a facefull of belly dancer. SHE WAS GYRATING RIGHT IN MY STILL CHEWING FACE.

I jumped back in my seat, unsure how to handle this.

Embarrassed, I stared at my plate, the tablecloth and my new bride.

The married man next to me asked his wife for some ones...which she gave him...and he stuffed in the panties of the belly dancer.


We left some ones, too...on the table as we boogied back out onto the Riverwalk.




Tell me about an awkward social situation and how you handled it.
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Failed Opening Lines of the Speech I'm Giving on Sunday, Not That I'm Nervous or Anything Crazy Like That, Ok?

We're dedicating our son at church this weekend.

This means I have to give a speech in front of 2,000,000 people (I think that's how many people will be there - just an estimate).

Gulp.

Like most things in life, it's the getting started part that has me stalled.

Some failed opening lines of my yet-to-be-written speech:

• It was a dark and stormy night
• Call me Ishmael
• Once upon a time
• It was the best of times, it was the worst of times
• Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury
• Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today

You can watch it live at 11:15AM MST this Sunday. NOT that you should...

What other failed opening lines can I cross off my list?

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Stuff I've Never Experienced and Rarely Admit to Until Now - Yes, You're That Special

I often get made fun of for the bits of pop culture I know nothing about. Sometimes I'm proud to be ignorant of something, and other times I'm embarrassed. When I get embarrassed, I just smile like I'm an insider.

So to break my cycle of pop culture dishonesty, here's a few things I've never seen, read, heard, smelled, etc....

• Ghostbusters
• Never saw the point.
• Justin Bieber
• I can honestly say I have never heard a single song of his.
• And I aim to keep it that way.
• Sushi
• I don't like fish, and yet I have friends who tell me I'll enjoy sushi and it's not that fishy.
• When they say that, this is what I hear in my head: "You'll enjoy poop. It's not that poopy."
• No thanks.
• Without the thanks.
• Motorcycles
• I owned a motorcycle once. For about a day and a half. I sold it before I got off the crutches.
• I am completely baffled by people who would rather travel long distances on a motorcycle than in a car or a plane. You can explain it all you want; I will never understand.

What's something you've resisted over the years?

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Guest Post for Rob Shepherd

If you like making fun of me (and I know you do), then you're in for a treat today!

Rob Shepherd is graciously lending his site to me today. I'm not exactly sure what time he'll post it, and I forgot to send him a title for the post, so I don't know how you'll know that what you're reading is my post...except that when you read it, you'll immediately think, "I'm glad I'm not THAT guy!"

So yeah, that's how you'll know it's me.

Head on over and check it out!

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The Teensy-Weensy Spider: A Guest Post of Tiny, Epic Proportions

Today's guest post is one I've been looking forward to for a long time. It's from my favorite older sister, Laurie. I would love to tell you that she made this whole story up, but then I'd be lying.

Laurie has a blog she attends to in the summers when she's not busy teaching school called Walking On Sunshine.

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Alternatively Titled: The time I rendered my brother half naked and slapping himself on the side of the road with one softly spoken sentence

Ricky had a love affair as a young teenager. This happened long before he met my beautiful sister–in-law Jana. Her name was Maxine. She was two years younger than him. She was beautiful (in his eyes), and she stayed with him for three long years. She was great on dates (or so I am told), and she knew how to hold him just right in her seat.

Maxine was a 1982 Nissan Maxima. She was cool because she knew how to talk. Remember those cars that told you ‘the right door is ajar”? That was Maxine. She was a hand–me–down from our grandfather (Editor's Note: Not really. Laurie is older than me, and thus gets confused sometimes. My grandpa's old car was my next one, Charlotte). Ricky loved her dearly.

Right after Ricky got Maxine, he also got his learner’s permit. This meant he could drive with a much older, much more mature driver in his car. On this particular night, this meant me, being all of four years older. We decided to drive a few miles down the hill to go to Target. The road was straight with very little traffic, so it should have been an easy drive. We got in, buckled up, and were off. Ricky sat straight up in Maxine’s lap, gripped the steering wheel, and drove with extreme care.

About half way to our destination, he began to twitch his head and neck. Then he began to yell at me to stop bothering him. Since I wasn’t doing anything, I told him to keep his eyes on the road. His twitching behavior didn’t stop, and he again yelled at me. At this point, I looked over at him and saw a huge orange spider crawling on his neck. Knowing Ricky, and his fear of any moving bug (remember his bee admission?), I decided to be proactive.


“Ricky, pull over right now,” I said calmly. He pulled Maxine off the road. I reached over the turned on the hazards.

“Ricky, there is a huge, orange spider on your neck.”

What followed next was film worthy, but none of us had smart phones or even cell phones then. He literally opened the door, fell out of the car, stripped many layers of clothing off, began yelling, and frantically swatting himself. Thankfully the road was empty at the time, or someone might have called 911.

It took close to 20 minutes to calm him down, dress him, and get him back behind the wheel again. We never found the spider, and he now drives with one eye on the road, and the other looking for it.

I am not sure who kills the spiders in Ricky and Jana’s house, but I am pretty sure it isn’t Ricky.

Filtering the OOPS!

Sometimes I forget to filter what I'm thinking before it shoots out my mouth or off my fingers.


One of the bosses emailed me the other day with a simple question.


The Boss: Why does my laptop stop in the middle of my typing and then catch up 10 or 20 characters later?


I couldn't help myself. I only started hearing the warning sirens when I had clicked 'Send'.


Here was my reply:


Me: Because I'm downloading all your financial and personal information in the background.  Hold still, it'll go faster and be over quicker.  Thanks.


Some bosses have a better sense of humor then others...




What 'OOPS!' moments have you had with your boss?

Artistically Challenged

My wife is very artistic. She can make any room a bit more homey and welcoming in 3 seconds flat. She's like Martha Stewart without the rap sheet (although I bet it's nicely pressed).

She paints. She decorates. She expresses herself artistically.

Me? Not so much.

I mean, just look at this web page. Oi.

I'm so artistically challenged I think it should be considered a disability. My standard response to any decorating choice my wife give me is "I like the blue one." Doesn't matter if we're talking about about flower vases or candle holding thingies. Doesn't matter if the choices she's giving me aren't even blue.

When I was 5 years old and in kindergarten, we were all assigned the daunting task of drawing a self-portrait.

I drew and drew. I colored. I made thoughtful frowny-faces at the page and drew some more. This was my masterpiece. It was my best artistic creation ever, and I am including everything I've ever done since then, too.

Our teacher was making the rounds, inspecting and praising our work.

I squirmed in my seat, anxious to hear her thoughts.

She paused at my desk.

"Ricky, stay on task. No drawing airplanes."




Are you artistic?




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The IT Rain Dance

We had a server problem the other day.

It should have been a routine fix - the RAID controller card had gone bad and needed to be replaced.  Not a big deal.

So I put in the new controller card, changed the cable and replaced the battery pack.

I fired the server back up, and checked the drive array in Windows.

Nothing.

I rebooted to make sure the controller card showed up in the POST process.

Then I spent the next two hours wondering why the card showed up in the POST process but not in Windows.

I reinstalled drivers.

I flashed the firmware.

I rebooted 27 times.

I expanded my vocabulary.

I did a rain dance.

Then I got a bright idea – open the case back up and check the connections.

Sure enough, one cable was pointing straight up, dangling in the air.

It works now.

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The Globetrotter

If you see me at the airport, you'll probably think I'm a seasoned traveler.

I am.

But that doesn't mean I've gotten used to it.

I can rush through a security line with the best of 'em.  I don't wear shoes with laces, I don't make a scene, and I can stack / unstack a pile of bins like a champion Sport Stacker.

I can recite the Safety Speech in my sleep.  I can negotiate hotel rates with ease.

But that doesn't mean I don't have my share of issues.

While I'm in the security line at the airport, my seemingly calm mind is racing.  "What if that guy's a terrorist?  Will they catch him?  What if they think I'm a terrorist?  What will they do to me?  What if I have to go into that glass "timeout" box for some one-on-one quality frisking time, again?"

After this brief moment of anxiety, I get to move on to the plane.  What if I get on the wrong flight?  This is a real concern, as I almost did this once.  I had gotten to the airport early since I was worried about being late.  I was catching the flight home from Kansas City (motto:  "You came! Hey wait a minute, come back!").  I was two feet from handing my boarding pass to the attendant when the guy behind me said, "You ever been to Phoenix?"

"Yes", I replied.  "I was born there."

"I bet they'll be glad to see you again."

I was so early, I was boarding the wrong flight!

Assuming I get to where I'm going, I then get to experience the joy that is renting a car.  I don't care which company it is, they all have the same goal:  Charge you a lot while confusing and scaring you.  You'll reserve your car online by clicking on the "Cheap as stealing dirt!!!" link.  You'll feel a bit adventurous and give yourself an upgrade from the PT Cruiser to any other car in the world.  Then you show up at the rental place.  You ask for your reserved car at the agreed upon price.

"I'm sorry", comes the reply.  "We don't have that model available.  We only have PT Cruisers."

"I was promised another car.  Really, any other car."

"Nope, sorry.  Oh, wait - we do have another car.  Let me double check...yes, we have one other car available."

"Great, I'll take it.  What a relief!  The last time I was in a PT Cruiser, I thought the designers had a personal vendetta against me.  Nothing was where it was supposed to be.  The window controls were under the radio, and the analog clock was in the back seat.  I think the trunk was on the roof and the engine was on vacation."

"I understand, sir.  So you will be taking the other available model?"

"Yes, of course.  Wait a minute, you're smirking...what's the other model?"

"A van, sir.  An ancient, beat-up van with no windows."

"Like the kind kidnappers use?"

"Exactly!  Oh, one other thing.  The price has doubled since we're giving you an upgraded model."

So off I go in my kidnapper van...

...in a city that may or may be the same one I intended to visit.


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