A Day in the Life of...

Justin D. Hein

So, today I decide to run some errands. First, I was to meet Paige for lunch and then go set-up a joint bank account for us since I moved out to California. Of course, we were suppose to meet at noon, and I get out there at about 12:20 PM, cause my watch is all screwed up from flying... and Phil sent me this link of Steve-O making an a$$ out of himself on the Adam Carrolla Show last night, and I had to watch it.

Well, I finally pick-up Paige from work, and we decide to take care of the setting up of the bank account. It actually went quite smoothly, and the manager that helped us was very nice, and excited we were joining their bank. Unfortunately, by the time we get done, Paige has got to get back to work. So we first try to stop at Togo's next door... closed. We try the next place, some bakery/deli, and Paige gets an iced tea and Tuna salad sandwich... it was pretty good bread. I forgo the Tuna salad sandwich, and anything else at that place, figuring I would get something later that was more substantial and hot - hey, I hadn't had dinner the night before, and only a little bit of Cheerio's for breakfast, so I was going to get me a substantial lunch.

I then drop Paige off from work, and head back home. I forgot to take Paige and my dry cleaning with me to drop off, so I stopped to get that. I needed to dry clean a bunch of clothes since we moved, but was putting it off until I absolutely needed to. Well, with my first day at work next Monday, I figure now or never. I end up taking this redonkulously sized laundry bag full of suits, skirts, shirts, pants, and ties to the dry cleaning - a lot of it was actually Paige's. I get there, and they grill me with questions - name, address, phone number - until I tell them, "I just moved here, and have never been to your dry cleaners before." So then they have to re-ask me all of these questions to set up an account. Seriously, the dry cleaners asked me more identification questions than the banking manager did! Finally, we sort through the clothes, so that they are all itemized, and then she racks up the chrage for them, hands me the slip, and says, 'they will be done Monday after 6 PM'. Great. Now all the clothes I needed for Monday, aren't going to be ready until Tuesday. Well, I being the pessimistic individual, had left a suit and matching tie at home just as a precautionary measure. So, although disappointed, I was happy my pessimism today had paid off.

After the adventure to the dry cleaner, came lunch. Where to go? Well, unfortunately at this shopping center, the only fast food they had was some Juice Shop. Not in the mo0d for fruit, I went over my options in my head, and then decided on Togo's. Togo's - for those of you from Wisconsin - is a sandwich shop, kind of like Quizno's. Although the one near my new bank was closed, I knew of another one near my home. So, after taking a very Odyseean route to Togo's (due to a left hand turn light that quickly jumped to red, leaving me stranded in the middle of an intersection, as well as people in California refusing to use their turn signals), I get to Togo's.

Inside, there are three teenage-20 year old girls working, and two 40 year old men in line ahead of me. I wasn't paying much attention at the time, but something must of happened that was funny due to the customers in front of me. This is because, when it was my turn, these girls were just laughing hysterically. Out-of-control laughter. I made sure to rub the nose, face, ears and eyes to make sure nothing was hanging from somewhere it shouldn't be. But I had no idea what set these girls off.

I end up ordering a large Barbeque Beef sandwich. Like I said before, I was hungry. A large at Togo's is big, but it is not Cousin's large, and can be taken down by one person easily. When I ordered, the girl taking it starting laughing, and then credulously asked, "excuse, me WHAT size did you want?" I felt stupid, but was hungry so I said "large". This set these girls off again. To be honest, I was getting a little ticked off.

After recovering from this seemingly hilarious demand, the girl then asks, "you just want all meat, right", followed by a chorus of laughter of the other two girls behind the counter. At this time, I think I kind of got why the girl thought it was so funny, but not entirely why it was so funny that she asked me these questions. I explained that I did not just want the meat, but I wanted all the fixings - this brought up some more laughter. Finally, one of the other girls recovered enough to press me on whether I wanted chips or a drink, and I said yeah, yeah sure, whatever to what they were asking.

I was very confused at the time, and I am still not sure what was so funny. I was wearing a striped polo shirt and blue jeans with flip-flops, and had just showered and shaved. I didn't have anything on my face, or bad breath (on account of brushing my teeth). I didn't get it, and still don't. Needless to say, I won't be going into that Togo's again anytime soon... but that is more because what happened next.

Okay, so finally, the girl gives me sandwich in a bag with the chips, and a large cup to fill my soda. One of the redeeming characteristics in my mind from my first visit to a Togo's was that they didn't have cupped soda, but actually gave you a 20 oz. bottled drink. But that Togo's was in Davis, CA, and I was in Sacramento, CA - maybe the policy is different store to store. Anyhootnanny, I disappointingly grab my cup, and head to the fill-up station. I pick mountain dew, and then start looking for a cover and a straw. I find the cover and the straw, and then move my drink away from the spout onto... invisible air... uh-oh

CRASH! BOOM! SPLAT! SPLASH! SH!T!

Yep, 32 oz of Mountain Dew drop strait onto my chest, waist, lap, and then the floor. Mind you, I had just bought the jeans and flip-flops, and took especially good care of the polo shirt which I had been complimented on repeatedly by my friends after its purchase. This accident didn't go unnoticed by the girls behind the counter who errupt in a chorus of squeals and laughter. Some of the customers inside the store also take part in the event. Of course, no one offers me a hand as I pick up my cup to refill, as well as search for my shattered dignity among the ice cubes and light yellow liquid on the floor crawling up my pants. After the second fill-up, I am out the door, before the girls had even stopped clapping.

I get back in the car, upset of course, but then thinking, "hey, this aint too bad". I only live minutes from this place, and the soda and ice actually feel cool against the hot air of Sacramento. However, about 15 seconds later, the stickiness starts settling in. I can feel it on my toes, my arms, my chest, and the legs of my pants. It felt like I had just gotten out of a popsicle bath, and was now attempting to air dry. By the time I got to my apartment parking lot, and garage, I could barely move. The hair of my arms were stuck to my skin, and my flip-flops were glued to my feet. Worse yet, it had looked like I made an accident in my pants. Of course, when I get out of my car, I happened to run into one of our neighbors. Not a big deal you would think, unless you knew that Paige and I have yet to meet ANYONE in our entire building. I give the guy a goofish grin, and then say, "had a little problem with the Mountain Dew", before smacking the rest of my body up the stairs to our apartment. It is safe to say, I felt quite relieved when the apartment door slammed behind my back.

SO what to do? I decide I have to try to save the clothes first before eating. So, I strip down to my skivvies, and Shout the heck-outta my polo shirt and pants. I then throw them in to the wash... again. Then I wipe down my flip flops with a rag and some warm water. I am doing this all while incredibly upset mind you.

Finally, I get to sit down and enjoy my sandwich. I unwrap this beast, and realize, whoa, this is a messy barbeque beef sandwich. I finally unwrap it, and take a big bite out of the thing. After chewing and swallowing that first bite, I look down and realize that half of the barbeque beef had landed on my bare chest and lap.

Good thing I spilled the Moutain Dew there first with the clothes on, otherwise my shirt and pants surely would of been ruined.

Well, that is about all. I just thought you would enjoy this little story.