I always feel bad when I lose my temper. It happens so infrequently and I almost always say or do something that I regret. For example, today, while playing in my daily pick up basketball game, I happened to drop the f-bomb. I so dislike when my normally impeccable mien, mores and demeanor is shattered and suddenly improprieties and indecency replace my dedicated decorum. Luckily, I’m not one to lose my temper often as elegance and etiquette are essential in essaying an elevated and exemplary existence.
I’ve recently noticed that debit card payments are becoming the favored mode of payment at the local grocery store. A debit card is similar to a credit card accept where a credit card draws on a holders pre-established line of credit, thereby incurring debt, a debit card draws directly from a holders bank balance, reducing said balance by the amount needed to make the holders purchase. Additionally, I find, the debit card to be more convenient as you don’t have to sign a slip like you would for a credit card (some debit cards can work as credit cards); all you need to do is enter your pin in the little debit card scanning machine and, voila, transaction completed and you’re on your way. The debit cards machines in the local grocery store are equipped with a special pen/stylus meant only to interact with the debit card machine, i.e. entering pin information, answering simple yes or no questions, etc. Additionally, the machine makes a handy ‘beep’ noise indicating to the user that they have successfully tapped the special pen/stylus point onto the interactive screen. Without the beep, I’d, most likely, pound that little pen/stylus into a blunt instrument in my enthusiasm to correctly enter in pin information, answer simple yes or no questions, or etc. Usually, from the point I first scan my card, till the point I’m walking off with my legally tendered and paid for loot, the debit card machine and I exchange 6 beeps for 6 taps of the special pen/stylus. It you were blind and happened to be standing next to the debit card machine that I happened to just walk up to in my local grocery store (deep breadth) this is what you would hear: Swipe (not sure how the swipe sounds, but since you are blind and, clearly, have enhanced hearing you would immediately recognize the sound of a swiping card and picture the word ‘swipe’ so I’m cutting it short for you here…. Hmmm, also, if you were blind, you’d probably have somebody reading this to you and that person had better get the translation right or you’ll be mightily confused) ‘beep’ (short pause) ‘beep-beep-beep-beep-beep’ (another short pause) ‘beep’ (and then footsteps fading into the distance). Today, as I was looking for my jar of Del Monte Pink Grapefruit, I heard the following interaction between a debit card machine and a shopper: ‘beep’ (short pause) ‘beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep’ (short pause) beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beepity-BEEP-beepity’ (long pause while the shopper, assumingly, massaged a cramp) ‘beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beepity-beep (at this point I’m thinking, ‘Bleep! That is a long Pin!) -beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep’ (pause) ‘beep’. I’m almost not even kidding. I’m pretty sure I heard the machine whisper a prayer afterward: 01001001100 100101010. (If you don’t know, this is machine language. Roughly translated it reads: ‘Jesus Christ!’)
At night, I think I can hear my cats in the duct work down in the basement. I’m not sure what they are doing in there, but, hopefully, its maintenance related.
My cyber crush is a on a girl. Nay! A woman!
I think the Oscars are on this Sunday. I’m pretty excited about what the hotties are going to wear and what new hottie will emerge that I haven’t, um, emergnoticed before (I just made up a new word. Please pronounce it thusly: EE Merg NAH Tissed. . . Or, face my wrath) I’m not going to watch the Oscars, of course, but, I will tirelessly google the fashion sites afterwards for prized photographs.
My cyber crush is on a hot woman!! Yeah, baby! And she ain’t famous.
I’d like the Oscars to be more, you know, unpredictable. Not so much in the presentations or presenters (I really think presentaters should be incorporated into the language. Who can make this happen?), but rather in to whom they choose to give those little golden bald guys. Actually, I don’t really care. Bring on the hotties.
Friday, February 23, 2007
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