I know. You’re amazing.
Every time you hear me mutter something like, “I sure wish I could convert this PDF to Word,“ or “It’d sure be great if I could edit the text in this un-editable document,” or “My sister is converting to Judaisim for her fiancee,” there comes your head, popping up from behind your cubicle wall, with offers to assist in all three distinct conversion activities.
And honestly, although my sister could use the help…it’s getting a little tiring.
Look. It’s time to face facts.
You have a bottle opener keychain, my friend — and that means one very important thing. No, it doesn’t mean that you’re always on the ready when it comes to opening bottles. No, it doesn’t mean you’re the life of the party. No, it doesn’t mean you’re like “the MacGuyver of spirits” or that you are the “hostess with the mostest.” It doesn’t mean you’re clever, resourceful or extremely savvy.
It means you’re an alcoholic.
You love oranges, I get it.
You probably peel an orange with those hands of yours after you finish your tuna fish sandwich each and every day at lunchtime. You probably think to yourself how glorious it is that you’re infusing your body with well-needed vitamin C and having a healthy snack that’s leagues ahead of the typical chips and/or protein bars. You probably happily munch away at the juicy-goodness of your in-season orange and wonder why the rest of the world hasn’t yet jumped on the bandwagon you’re currently riding.
And that’s why I’m writing this open letter to you, Orange Citrus Finger-Smeller.
There’s three smells, that once you get on your fingers, are very very very hard to get rid of, even with antibacterial soap and/or sandpaper. They are:
Dear All of You,
First of all, I’d like to say that I’m extremely thankful that I’ll be spending Thanksgiving with you today. Having you share today’s festivities with me is a wonderful thing and I hope that you, too, have a day you’ll never forget. I’d also like to hope that you don’t take both dark meat drumsticks off the turkey plate before asking everyone at the table if they, maybe, want a dark meat drumstick as well. I mean, there are only two dark meat drumsticks. Think about that. If you were sitting at a fancy dinner in a fancy four star restaurant and they brought the bread basket and it was filled with tons of different kinds of bread but only two (2) olive bread slices — would you take both olive bread slices without asking the rest of the table if they maybe wanted one too? Probably not. That’s why you’d better ask before you snag the only two dark meat drumsticks for yourself and before you justify in your head that no one’s eating dark meat these days because of the health reports coming out about dark meat versus white meat. Just ask before you take.
Same goes for the marshmallow topping on top of the sweet potatoes. There’s only just so much marshmallow topping and you can’t take a scoop of sweet potato and enjoy it without a helping of marshmallow topping. And if you did what you did last year where you scoop some sweet potato and then scoop up a bunch of marshmallow off the top of other sweet potato areas, people will be left with servings of sweet potato and no marshmallow. So don’t do that either, okay?
Like I said, I’m extremely thankful that I’ll be spending Thanksgiving with you today.
I just thought that you should know that when I was standing behind you the other day at the video store and you reached into your pocket to get your wallet that your arms sort of shifted in your short sleeve shirt so that when you reached into your back pocket your normally covered elbows peeked out from underneath your shirt sleeve. And it was in that one moment that a hybrid horror and home improvement panic washed over me and caused me to drop my Hot Tamales.
Thing is, your elbow looks like sandpaper.