UBMe #6 (Throwing Money Away), Batting Cage Injuries, And An Intriguing Sight at the Supermarket
Quick-hitters:
- Current rebate-o-meter: $1,740, though $60 of that almost never reached my bank account (more on that later).
- I see that there are eleven left in the IMBC.
Amy, you might as well give up now…you have no shot of winning!
- It’s time for another installment of UBMe!
It is a beautiful day today, so you decide to get out of the house As you head for the parking lot, you stop by your mailbox—it’s a typical apartment mailbox; small, rectangular, barely large enough to hold a single brick in it. You open it, and find two bubble mailers and the Wall Street Journal that you know your sister no longer reads.
(Background: My sister subscribes to the WSJ, but for some reason, the WSJ delivery guys don’t have a key to get in to our complex. Therefore, they have to deliver the paper with the normal mail, and, according to my sister, we always get the previous day’s paper with the current day’s mail. Since my sister doesn’t bother reading the WSJ, I usually just toss it.)
You grab the folded paper, check between the fold—you know your mail carrier likes to fold the paper around your other mail—find nothing there, and proceed to toss the paper into the nearby trash can. Upon tossing the paper, you see the pages of the folded paper fan open…and a rebate check pokes its head out between two pages!
You grab the paper from the trash can, and find the rest of your mail shoved inside the newspaper: two more rebate checks, a credit card bill, and some junk mail! If you had just blindly tossed the paper into the trash can, all of that mail would have been lost!
I guess my mail carrier missed the fold itself, and accidentally inserted the mail between pages of the paper. It’s a damn good thing I noticed it when I chucked the paper. Now I gotta wonder: have I thrown away other mail in a similar fashion?
- Have you ever watched a baseball game and cringed when a batter fouls a pitch off, and the ball caroms into one of his legs? With the exception of the shot to the package, I’d have a hard time arguing that there is anything more painful in baseball than that.
I mentioned that it was a beautiful day today, so we decided to swing by the local family fun center for some batting practice and, if time permitted, some miniature golf. While watching my sister all but bunt her allotment of slow-pitch softball tosses, she popped one up in her immediate vicinity. Taking cover as if she heard a gunshot, I quipped “Isn’t that what the helmet is for?”
When it was my turn to hit, I decided to start with the slow-pitch cage as a warm-up. If you don’t mind my saying, I was raking pretty well; I made excellent contact with several of the pitches without whiffing on a single pitch.
(I know, I know…bragging about hitting slow-pitch tosses. How impressive!)
The batting cages used to be $2 for a token (20 pitches); it’s now $3 for a token (though now you get 30 pitches, so at least it comes out to the same cost per pitch). I remembered having enough trouble with twenty pitches—I’d tire out at around 15 or so—and I was feeling especially tired near the round of 30. When pitch #29 came, I took a giant swing at it, and knew immediately that I hit the top of the ball.
How did I know? I fouled the pitch RIGHT OFF THE TOP OF MY RIGHT FOOT, right on top of my shoe laces (I hit right-handed, so that was my back foot). YEOW!!!
I let out a painful scream, tried to regain my composure, and could only very weakly swing at the next pitch. I was in so much pain that I couldn’t raise my left foot off the ground! Fortunately, that was also the last pitch of that round.
I limped out of the batting cages, limped towards the bench outside the cage, and immediately began massaging my foot. Fortunately, the foul ball didn’t leave a bruise, although I still feel pain in the foot.
Moral of the story: I can insult my sister, but at serious risk to my own health. Clearly, I still have not learned my lesson.
- Finally, I just have to end today’s blog with a…um…intriguing sight I saw at 99 Ranch today.
(Disclaimer: The following may be offensive to some. You have been warned.)
I was at the butcher’s section of the store, strolling about with my shopping cart, when I noticed a petite Asian woman standing quite oddly. And by “quite oddly,” I mean that she was sticking her chest out about as far as anatomically possible. Strange, I thought…
Robin Williams, in Live on Broadway, once quipped that he saw a woman that had such a bad boob job that, when she turned in a different direction, her boobs stayed in the same direction. Let’s put it this way: it looked like she was wearing a breast plate under her shirt; she turned, and those things didn’t move. I figured they were made out of Kevlar; a bullet wouldn’t have stood a chance! The woman looked soooooooo uncomfortable standing there, and it’s not like she had C or D cups!
Once I found the item I was looking for—chicken breasts, interestingly enough—I went down a couple aisles to where my sister was shopping, and before I could ask her if she saw the girl, she immediately asked me if I noticed her!
Bring on the hate mail!