J
John Cochran
This is the story of my bizarre afternoon, and how my surgical scars went to work for me!
I had arranged to have my asphalt driveway seal-coated, and the crew was late getting here. So, I gave my daughter the check and told her to have them start if they arrived before I got home from a motorcycle ride (beautiful afternoon in Minnesota). Soooo, as I came rumbling back home, these two young guys had just finished the driveway and were getting ready to leave. I noticed that they had splattered a whole lot of the black goop on the concrete sidewalk, and hadn't done much to even try to clean it up. So, standing there in my jeans and Harley Davidson t-shirt (which was ripped and going to be thrown away) I politely suggested they clean up the mess before it dried permanently. The one young guy, who had been eyeing my bike, surily responded that they were going to need some rags, and they didn't have much time.
I took off the t-shirt and said "then start with this, and I'll go get you some more rags." The guy was kind of staring at my chest, so I simply pointed to the two little scars where they put the tubes in and said "stab wounds" and walked into the house in search of more rags.
The windows were open, and I could hear them talking outside. The one guy says to the other, "You better scrub your ass off, because I don't want some knife-fighting Hells Angel pissed off at me!" I came back outside, and they had magically found some rags of their own, and were down on their knees, scrubbing in a manner that would have made Cinderella's evil step-sisters proud
Clouds do indeed have silver linings, and sometimes they're in the shape of surgical scars.
--John
I had arranged to have my asphalt driveway seal-coated, and the crew was late getting here. So, I gave my daughter the check and told her to have them start if they arrived before I got home from a motorcycle ride (beautiful afternoon in Minnesota). Soooo, as I came rumbling back home, these two young guys had just finished the driveway and were getting ready to leave. I noticed that they had splattered a whole lot of the black goop on the concrete sidewalk, and hadn't done much to even try to clean it up. So, standing there in my jeans and Harley Davidson t-shirt (which was ripped and going to be thrown away) I politely suggested they clean up the mess before it dried permanently. The one young guy, who had been eyeing my bike, surily responded that they were going to need some rags, and they didn't have much time.
I took off the t-shirt and said "then start with this, and I'll go get you some more rags." The guy was kind of staring at my chest, so I simply pointed to the two little scars where they put the tubes in and said "stab wounds" and walked into the house in search of more rags.
The windows were open, and I could hear them talking outside. The one guy says to the other, "You better scrub your ass off, because I don't want some knife-fighting Hells Angel pissed off at me!" I came back outside, and they had magically found some rags of their own, and were down on their knees, scrubbing in a manner that would have made Cinderella's evil step-sisters proud
Clouds do indeed have silver linings, and sometimes they're in the shape of surgical scars.
--John
