Give generously to the retired strippers home.

This all started at the local supermarket cafe when some bitchy looking woman asked me if I had any ideas to draw in a bigger crowd. She was from corporate and some of the employees had quietly griped to me that she was miserable.

Being a guy that sticks up for the troops I figured I'd jerk her chain. I have a knack for keeping a straight face and saying things as innocently as Gomer Pyle when I feel like it.

"Maybe you could get a couple of strippers in. You'd get everyone from the building trades to come here for lunch," I suggested, cheerfully and innocently.

It made her real uncomfortable and it was fun watching her squirm. More importantly, a couple of employees heard it and saw her squirm. I knew that they'd start filling my sandwiches a little heavier when I bought lunch there after that.

Anyway, when you go through the registers the cashiers have to ask you if you'd like to donate of one of a list of charities and they spout off the list.

I used to scowl and they'd stop the spiel but one day I said I'd give a couple bucks to the Retired Strippers Home. The woman thought a minute and told me it wasn't on the list.

It had gone right over her head.

Over the past few months of shopping there I've used that line when the cashiers give their spiel and the results have been interesting. Some give me an angry glare, others snicker and here and there some tell me it's not on the list. The latter are generally not too bright.

Yesterday I did it when I picked up a loaf of bread and the cashier told me it wasn't on the list but the girl bagging my groceries laughed outright. She picked up on it and asked me what retired strippers look like.

"Pretty grim," I replied. "They ought to rename it Battersea Dog's Home. After all the meth they have snorted in their careers they generally look pretty beat up."

The cashier, that had just let my original request go over her head finally picked up on it and told me it wasn't funny. I replied that humor was just the way you looked at things.

I looked at the girl that had bagged my bread and stuff. "Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play?"

"That's terrible," she laughed. "Your know, they really ought to open a retired strippers home."

"You mean there isn't one?" asked the cashier. The bagger and I rolled our eyes.

I picked up my stuff and walked off. She'll figure it out.

Eventually.





     




To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY