 |
October 22, 2009 |
|
 |
|
|
Too Small
FOUND by Jonathan Root-Winterguard
in 12th St. Seattle, Washington
A crinkled up note I found a half block away from my home in Seattle's Capitol Hill neighborhood. It seemed to have been put on the windshield of a car and then discarded. We couldn't quite decide on what "they" could be, except that maybe they were breast implants. And the Spaghetti Factory seems like a great place to ponder such things.
Sign in or register to start a profile and keep track of your comments. You may also post without creating a profile, but you'll have to answer some tough spam protection questions.
A Nice Home July 13, 2007 |
And Again ... May 01, 2008 |
Altar Boy July 22, 2007 |
Driver's Ed September 22, 2008 |
 |
|
 |
         |
We collect FOUND stuff: love letters, birthday cards, kids' homework,
to-do lists, ticket stubs, poetry on napkins, telephone bills, doodles -
anything that gives a glimpse into someone
else's life. Anything goes...
That's the first place I head when I have an important decision to make --- to the Spaghetti Factory in St. Louis. (Though I'd much rather be in the Evergreen State.) A hefty plate of carbs really clears my head.
But if "they" are some sort of clothing and "they" already might be too small, I seriously doubt that an excursion to the spaghetti factory is the right answer to the problem.
my first thought was plants of some sort.
I think they're diamonds to put in a new setting of her ring - they're well-cut, but too small in carat weight for what she wants. He trusted her enough to give her loose diamonds. I hope she doesn't use them to tip the waitress!
Until she saw them at Steve's house, she realized that she had forgotten to include size on Matt and Chase's pros/cons list.
It's a big decision, Debbie. Order the lasagna.
She's trying to decide which implants to get. The spaghetti Factory is where she will judge the attention she will get.
Steve crumpled the note in frustration and threw it to the ground. Debbie had written it at 2 p.m. and hadn't come back from the Spaghetti Factory yet by 8:30. How much pasta could that woman possibly be putting away? And why couldn't she decide??
Here he had trusted her with helping him decide which of the dwarves he should use in the lead roles for his end-of-semester stage production of 'Seven Brides for Seven Brothers' that he had better ace, or else he would never get his graduate degree in modern theater. So what does Debbie do? Blow him off and go out to eat. Being an artiste had sure turned out to be tres difficulte.
"Okay everyone, back in the Volkswagen! We're outta here like a circus on Sunday morning."
IMO Steve is a realtor and "they" are condos. The trust issue perhaps arose from leave Debs alone in one of them and trusting her to lock up on her way out.
Spaghetti with browned butter and Mazithra (sp?) cheese was Debbie's order and her friend had the meat balls. wink wink nudge nudge
Steve is a jeweler and that's all he has going for him. Little does he suspect that he's being taken for a ride "by this good wicked spirit, sweet angel-devil," Debbie. In an attempt to cement his relationship with his lady love, he has chosen an exquisite pair of diamond earrings for her and is trusting her to take them out for a test drive. What Steve doesn't know is that Debbie is having a late lunch at the Spaghetti Factory with the gorgeous new guy at work, who will be beguiled by her bling. She says in her note that she "might" be back, but she's just leaving her options open in case things work out with the new guy for after lunch. In the end, she'll decide the diamonds are too small, return them to Steve with her regrets, and hold out for something flashier from the new guy.
Shoes. He has a shoe fetish she's trying to accommodate. She's not digging shoving her Barney Rubble feet into those six inch stilettos.
très difficile, Lib. Unless it's going to be very difficulty.
@ Substitute ... Thanks much; the only difficulty here is me trying to write in French without looking everything up (the grad school exams were only for reading proficiency ... not for writing proficiency). Entschuldigen Sie mich.
Steve is the clothes designer for American Apparel. He had stopped by to have a fitting for a new bad line of clothes.
The mystery is which model is it?
Is it the blonde tranny in the circulation ending blue disco pants with the ultra-horrid glasses?
Is it the brunette - armpits match the rug in the yeast infection generating red disco pants?
Or is it the camel toe prone two sized too small black Malibu Swimsuit model - who couldn't find any quick tan spray prior to the photo shoot.
In any case when she returned all carbed up and bloated - Steve became so incensed that she couldn't fit into anything, and then in fact - regurged on part of his new Winter line "super big cowl-neck Cosby sweater collection - that he crumpled the note up and proceeded to the nearest bath house to collect himself.
Steve is an insecure artist and needs a critique. He turned to the only one he can trust: Debbie, lover of implants, shoes, spaghetti, and Cosby sweaters. Are the paintings too small or the frames?
Shoes
anyone else find the smilie sinister?
Diamonds set in herring... my favorite!
Hiplainsdrifter, you've always been my favorite. I laugh right out loud every time. Mind Not in the Gutter, I bet you got it exactly right.
I love Found.
I just wanted to answer the tough spam protection questions.
Really, you guys crack me up....
Keep being funny because it makes my day better :)