A Matter of Time Until

Staten Island becomes part of Nova Scotia
Toe fungus reaches Defcon 5 threat level
Eye contact will completely disappear
Twitter posts will replace a Masters thesis
Roseann Barr will be placed in a time capsule
Pepper spray will outsell Holy Water
Strip searching is an Olympic sport
Every white person on the upper West Side will adopt a Chinese orphan
Paul McCartney will develop a fourth chin
Local militia will form to prevent Taylor Swift from entering city limits
Bald becomes the new symbol of sensitivity
Boy bands will be bought & sold on the Black Market
No one south of Delaware will use the word conundrum
Excess poets will be auctioned off
The words Man Up will mean switching from margarine back to butter

Disappearing Dentist

My dentist has vanished. I spent a week calling and getting no response. Finally the phone company informed me the number was temporarily disconnected.
I am hesitant to drive past his office. What if there is police tape across the entrance? Is it possible he just snapped and went berserk on a patient with a drill? Did he do away with his receptionist? I wonder if he was secretly inhaling laughing gas, causing a disconnect with reality.
I liked my dentist. He didn't talk much and cleaned my teeth himself. He was gentler than the hygienists, who may secretly hate men and exact revenge by digging in under the gums. Maybe he served as a drug drop or sold illicit Poly dent. God, what if he wasn't really a dentist? What if he got off on x-raying teeth? Over the past three years he has filled no cavities. What if my mouth has been decaying all that time, while this fraud ignored obvious problems?
Now I have to find another dentist, preferably one without a sadistic hygienist.
Why do these things happen to me?

Burger King Blackout

The lights went out in Burger King as I sat there reading a book. Luckily I had finished my meal, otherwise I might have let the lettuce and tomato slide out in the dark. I would have spilled the soda and tripped getting up and quite possibly have left a French fry or two on my plate.
No one screamed or panicked. I suppose I could have sneaked over to the soda dispenser and refilled my cup. Maybe even swiped extra straws. Don't laugh. As we filed to the door the couple in front of me found it locked. Evidently, BK has a system to automatically lock everyone inside in an emergency. Or so they can frisk us. Or maybe it's to keep others out. I am trying to imagine being stuck in a BK for hours, unable to see. Would there be grounds for a lawsuit? Copulation in the rest rooms?
Actually, it only took moments for the doors to open and there we were out in the blackened parking lot with nothing to do but start our cars and leave. The workers? Hey, they were getting paid for standing there doing nothing and I'm sure they had coffee. Maybe it was experimental. If you can't see the food it might taste better.

Privacy Settings

In these intrusive times privacy is so important. One must create levels of exclusion in one's life. I have gone down my list of contacts and carefully delineated where their boundaries are with regard to my personal idiosyncrasies and especially my space.
Jan can check my hair and armpits for lice, but nowhere else. Danielle can inspect my entire body for anything abnormal. Steve has permission to read my poetry, but not my strange musings, which might put him over the edge. Mirella can look through my pajama drawer, but not my underwear, Candy can check out my shorts, but not my socks, Carl can explore my medicine cabinet, but not my diary.
Harriet has full access to my diary, but not my morning pages, Howard has my garage to check, but stay out of my storage space, Keith can get into that space, but not my fridge, Ed has access to my public blog, but not my private fantasies, which are locked in a safe only Nancy can open.
Mary can watch me brush my teeth, but not pee, Josie can watch me shave, but not pee, Margaret can watch me shave and pee because she is a doctor, Ulrike can tickle me, Arlene can clean out my ears and then blow in them.
Jackie can give me a massage only above the chest.
I have to end this because Candy is in my bedroom spending just a little too much time checking my shorts. There are limits to sharing.

Tender Mercies

I am feeling especially compassionate this holiday season and decided to offer clemency to all those who got on my nerves this year.
Let's start with women who keep picking lint from my clothes. I enjoy lint; it completes me. Those who correct my pronunciation, who leaves clothes in the communal washer/dryer for hours, who bought my books thinking they were scratch and sniff, who interrupt my expatiating on any subject to remind me they have to get up early for work, who clean out the apple crumb at Dunkin.
I forgive my own body for emitting strange noises on public transportation.
I am determined to pardon all those who begin sentences with...
To be honest
Frankly
In my humble opinion
Let me say first
Before I get to my point
At the risk of offending
As inappropriate as this sounds
Maybe I'm wrong about this
Call me stupid
Be forewarned
I consider you a friend, but
To make a long story short

Finally, I resolve not to lose my temper and use chloroform on anyone this entire holiday.

Service with a Smile

My robot hardly smiles anymore. When I first purchased Louise she smiled during whatever task I gave her. I was satisfied except for one instance. When I asked for discipline, she smiled all through the spanking session. It took the edge off. I tweaked her software so that she would glare at me more often. Guess I overdid it. Now when I ask her to do the dishes she gets surly.
I can't afford another robot.  When I take her to social events she makes the other guests' pleasant robots uncomfortable. I have to assume none of these people have their robot discipline them.
It's all my fault this happened and I feel guilty, which means it's time for some discipline. Maybe at some point Louise will enjoy punishing me so much, that smile will return.
Louise, come in here please. And this time bring the suede strap. Variety is key with your robot.

Too much Light

By my count, there are now 176 tree lightings scheduled in this area. They begin right after Thanksgiving and continue to mid December. I plan to attend all of them, no matter how exhausted I become. Why? Because I know you can't and somebody has to be there. There will be singing and short speeches and lots of color. The trees vary in size, but the message is clear. We have the spirit, we know the drill.
As far as I know, none of these events include giving away free stuff. Maybe if they offered a free slice of pizza attendance would spike. Also, if it is too warm the atmosphere changes for the worst. Bitter cold, puffs of breath, rubbing of hands are conducive to a quality tree lighting.
You pray the DPW guys in charge haven't overloaded any circuits or the volunteers who trimmed the tree did not put too many figurines on one side creating an imbalance, which could lead to a toppling. I've never seen anything like that, nor fist fights or arguments. Most guys are embarrassed to be there. Nothing masculine about a tree lighting. I think the kids get bored pretty quick. Old people tend to enjoy it, as long as there are port-o-johns nearby.
The smallest towns have them and you hope all that electrical usage won't cause an Elks Club blackout. That would force all the Elks to the VFW hall and we know how much they rub each other the wrong way.