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Jett Superior laid this on you on || November 25, 2002 || 5:43 pm

I! Am an asshole!

Sam has been throwing-up sick the last couple of days and my nights have been spent warm-bathing my child and washing sheets and blankets. Therefore, I’m just a titch punchy.

Got up to make french toast this morning and discovered we were out of milk. Can’t make good french toast without milk, nor the requisite backup cereal, so it’s off to the market I go. Zoom in, zoom down aisles, get to checkout and take a breath. The cashier was conversing with the bagger in a whispery-hoarse voice, so I say (still sounding a tad like Debra Winger, m’self….not completely over this airborne laryngitis just yet), “I just got over that mess. It was horrible.” She looks at me levelly and says, almost offhand, “I was born like this.” Strike one.

Harried and behind on the way down the street, I noticed the gas gauge was merrily on ‘E’, so I swung into the local Mom ‘n Pop Fillerup Place, where they always pump efficiently and I always tip nicely. On this day, the ownerman’s teenage daughter was running the show and I roll down the window, as per usual, and tell her how much of what kind to put in the JettMobile. I roll the window back up and write out my check, replete with tip. After a couple of minutes, TeenGirl GasPumper taps on the window, also as per usual (when she’s finished filling ‘er up, ya unnerstand) and I hand her my check, smile and thank her. I roll up the window, shift into gear and there commences the awfullest racket. At the top of the heap of sound, I hear the two old geezers that usually hover outside to gossip like biddies clamoring to see who can yell “HEYHEYHEYHEYHEEEEEEYYYYYY!” loudest. I look in my rearview and side mirrors to see that I have effectively driven off with the gas nozzle –WITH HOSE– trailing from the side of my car. Niiiiiiiice. Never mind that TeenGirl GasPumper broke both protocol and the rhythm of our regular routine by tapping the glass for the check earlier than usual, I drove off before she removed the nozzle from my car. I broke. The gaspump. Who’s the fucktard now, Ms. Jett Smarmybitch? I rarely get embarrassed. Suffice it to say, I was dayglo red. Strike two.

Got to work, had a productive day, felt good. Despite the fact that I had sleepy eyes and my hair was piled loosely atop my head, I was nicely turned out in a new outfit. I took off early to go to Scout’s basketball game, and somewhere in the third quarter my back started itching, so I reached back to scratch and found, to my horror, that even though I had taken half of the geegaws and tags off of my new pants, I had apparently neglected the ’spare button cache’ and a hangtag. I called my boss, Scott, on my mobile and yelled, “WHY didn’t you TELL me I still had the tags on my britches??”, to which he responded, “Look, girl, with you I never know if it’s a fashion statment or not. Besides, had I done that, you’da known I was looking at your ass.” Touche, and…STEEE-RIIIIIKE THRREEEEE! YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE, JETT!!

7 worked it out »

  1. dave 11.25.2002

    word up.

     
  2. The Fancy Llama 11.25.2002

    ha, ha-ha, ha… Ha. =)

     
  3. April Love 11.26.2002

    Good Times.

     
  4. jane 11.27.2002

    Too funny! Holy crap! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

    So how’s Sam? Still sick?

     
  5. ChristoCarto 11.28.2002

    Damn…And I kick myself in the ass when I forget to screw my gas cap back on.

     
  6. skyra 11.29.2002

    OH MY!!

    (wipes tears from eyes)

    I was always taught never to laugh at others misfortunes…but MAN!!! I never mastered that art!!

    Hope today is better!

     
  7. Bob 12.6.2002

    So YOU’RE the asshole that broke the pump…..

     

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