The One About My Wacky Day at J’ville
February 21, 2002

hi kids, sorry i’m late, your mother had to work over this week and didn’t have time to write you anything funny on tuesday ’cause she had to earn the sweet money to buy shoes for the babies.   

ok, so first of all, i didn’t have “internet access” for the last couple of days…more on that later.  and second of all, i didn’t have anything funny to write about until today.  so here for you reading pleasure:  
The One About Jaimie’s Wacky Thursday in J’ville.  

the day started out normal. no really, i have normal days. today was a “school day”. so i went to school and took notes and then promptly left.  normal.  then i went to the university library. what is it about libraries anyway?  y’know, if i were to go to the library (any library) and nothing tried to kill me, i swear i’d think something was wrong.   

right, so the library is really tall and the book i need is on the 7th floor.   n-n-no p-p-p-prob-blem.  i-i-i’m not sc-sc-scared of elevators.  and i’m not.  i just don’t like them. ever.  but what i like even less is climbing 7 flights of stairs in the darkest, dankest stair-well ever.  these stairs belong in an insane asylum. no really.  

so i go on up to the 7th floor and tool around ’til i find my book and then i “hop” back on the elevator and press my magic number and pray for a safe decent.  dream on, jaimie, dream on.  
the doors close and dang, nothing happens.  breathe in. breathe out.  nothing still happens.
“why hasn’t this infernal box moved yet?”
i think to myself. normally i would have said this aloud.
unfortunately, i’m not the only one in the lift, y’see, there’s some dirty, hippie chick standing next to me. 
which means only one thing: i’m trapped, nay, suspended in mid-air and i can’t scream or cry, which of course would be my first reaction. instead i wait patiently in awkward silence.

so i casually look over at the hippie chick and start to say something like, “WE’RE GONNA DIE!” but before i can open my mouth she says, “we’re not moving.”
my response, “uhhh. nope.”

then there’s more awkward silence.

o then i ask, “do you suppose that when the first cable snaps, we’ll feel a jolt and then a short series of jerks as all of the other cables continue to snap in succession?” more awkward silence.  

so then she reaches in to her book bag and breaks out a deck of cards and we play Old Maid or Go Fish or some other mundane game like that. then she reaches back in and pulls out a roulette wheel and a keno board. da hell? and before i know it, we’ve got a casino. i’ve got vinnie running the dice, louie is watchin’ the slots, and gino is dealin’ black jack at the table. wayne newton is doing a show in the back and there’s a silly magic show up front.  i’m playing 5-card stud and i’ve got the sweetest hand ever. lights are flashing, bells are ringing, jokers are wild, and showgirls are pouring out from backstage to change into their sequined numbers.  and then all of a sudden the doors open.   and out we all pour like a bad Marx Brothers rip-off.  

so yeah, anyway, turns out we hadn’t made it to the lobby.  we still had 7 flights to go.  that’s right.  the blasted thing just hung there in limbo.  so we try for a different evil-vator. y’see, there are three (3) evil-vators, and we had been on the middle one.  so we figure we’ll just wait for another “down” one to come get us.  and we wait. and wait.  where are the elevators?!  after what seems like 30 minutes (it’s hard to tell how long we waited.  there’s no clocks anywhere, it’s like a freakin’ casino) we heard a “ding!” aha! elevator!   
it was the middle one.  

eventually, i made it to the lobby.  i only cried twice.    

the second part of my adventure is slightly less adventurous than the first part of my adventure but no less annoying.  on the way out of the college hell-town i had to stop and buy gas. 
so i pulled into this little “fillin’ station” and got my gas and went home.  ha ha!

anyway, this little mom&pop place is crazy.  it’s looks new and modern but there’s nothing in it and i never see anyone buying gas there.  and i know you’re wondering why on earth would i go to that place.  well, i figured nothing could be worse than my evil-vator episode and threw caution into the wind. unfortunately i was standing down-wind and the darn thing came back and hit me.  ha ha, i digress.  

so i buy my gas and the lady hands back my change which consists of a coupla bucks, a half-dollar, two dimes and some pennies.  so i pocket my change and – what?! half-dollar?!  sheesh. and then i hear the lady tell this fella that’s standing by the counter that earlier in the day someone paid for their gas with a two-dollar bill.  crikeys, it’s like the land of forgotten money.  so now i’m stuck with the second most useless coin in the country.   

but i look down and notice it’s a 1964 Kennedy half-dollar.  holy collectable coin, batman!  now, i’m no coin collector or anything, but even i know that 1964 was the first year that Kennedy was put on the half-dollar (thus bumping off good ol’ ben “electric kite” franklin) AND that 1964 was the last year that silver coins were actually minted with a 90% silver content.  yeah, so now i have a “special” coin that i’ll no doubt end up putting away with the rest of my wheat pennies, liberty dimes, and all of those worthless foreign coins that i seem to get back from drink machines. 
geezy peezy. the only thing worse than getting back a half-dollar for change is getting back a silver-dollar.  i mean, whose idea was it to make that giant freakin’ coin? a coin that size could kill a man.

anyway, that’s all i have.  if my day gets any more wacky, you’ll have to visit me. i’ll be the one in the white room with the soft walls.  

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