- Joined
- Jun 9, 2006
- Messages
- 3,692
- Reaction score
- 176
So here it was Friday at work, and I punch out for lunch and head to one of my lunchtime haunts.
I belly up to the counter and order my sammitch, grab a small bag of chips and they pour me my sodey pop.
So I get to watching the news and eating my sammitch, which is much bigger than I thought( this was the first time I ordered their chicken tender sub), so in order to make it fit in my mouth, I had to take pieces by hand , and here and there I'd take the ketchup shooter bottle with the nozzle thing and put ketchup on them.
Now, if my Color Code was working that morning and I'd been in a proper Code Yellow, I would have noticed that at some point, the ketchup shooter and my sodey pop came to rest on the counter mere inches apart from each other.
But it wasn't, and I was in Code-Andy-Must-Be-****in'-Retarded.
So I'm watching the news, and decide "OK, I've now whittled the second half of my sub down to where i can eat it as a sub so now I want ketchup on it".
So I grab for the ketchup shooter and quickly, efficiently and without apparent effort or hesitation, and look down just in time to dutifully dump my sodey pop into my sammitch basket.
It takes me One. Full. Second.
Before what I have just so effortlessly done actually registers in my brain. The cold wet sodey pop on my left leg helps to burn the message through my first 10, 12 layers of skull with appropriate celerity.
First thing I do once back to my senses is to set the cup down( I swear, for what little it matters, that both cup and ketchup shooter were red, both of similar height and nearly identical weight at the time of this critical intelligence failure).
I take a quick, inconspicuous-as-possible look round to see if anyone has witnessed this critical intelligence failure. "Maybe" thought I to me, "Nobody saw".
So I look and the looks from the back cooking room, the cashier, and everyone at the counter confirms my fears.
"Yep", thought I to me, "You just twatted yourself in front of the whole place".
I then look at the cup and ketchup, mime grabbing the cup, the ketchup, back to the cup, and do that tight-lipped, closed-eyed nod to oneself that people who realize they've just twatted themselves often do. Everybody got it.
To their credit, if any of them laughed aloud they waited till I had paid and left.
I belly up to the counter and order my sammitch, grab a small bag of chips and they pour me my sodey pop.
So I get to watching the news and eating my sammitch, which is much bigger than I thought( this was the first time I ordered their chicken tender sub), so in order to make it fit in my mouth, I had to take pieces by hand , and here and there I'd take the ketchup shooter bottle with the nozzle thing and put ketchup on them.
Now, if my Color Code was working that morning and I'd been in a proper Code Yellow, I would have noticed that at some point, the ketchup shooter and my sodey pop came to rest on the counter mere inches apart from each other.
But it wasn't, and I was in Code-Andy-Must-Be-****in'-Retarded.
So I'm watching the news, and decide "OK, I've now whittled the second half of my sub down to where i can eat it as a sub so now I want ketchup on it".
So I grab for the ketchup shooter and quickly, efficiently and without apparent effort or hesitation, and look down just in time to dutifully dump my sodey pop into my sammitch basket.
It takes me One. Full. Second.
Before what I have just so effortlessly done actually registers in my brain. The cold wet sodey pop on my left leg helps to burn the message through my first 10, 12 layers of skull with appropriate celerity.
First thing I do once back to my senses is to set the cup down( I swear, for what little it matters, that both cup and ketchup shooter were red, both of similar height and nearly identical weight at the time of this critical intelligence failure).
I take a quick, inconspicuous-as-possible look round to see if anyone has witnessed this critical intelligence failure. "Maybe" thought I to me, "Nobody saw".
So I look and the looks from the back cooking room, the cashier, and everyone at the counter confirms my fears.
"Yep", thought I to me, "You just twatted yourself in front of the whole place".
I then look at the cup and ketchup, mime grabbing the cup, the ketchup, back to the cup, and do that tight-lipped, closed-eyed nod to oneself that people who realize they've just twatted themselves often do. Everybody got it.
To their credit, if any of them laughed aloud they waited till I had paid and left.