Twenty-some years ago, I was cutting out of church services early when my bishop’s wife caught me and invited me to her two-year-old’s birthday party. I had just moved to the Philadelphia area and didn’t really know anyone, so I opted for an evening with this family. That birthday party began a great friendship with an entire family.
According to my mom, there’s a new car repair place called “Lubey Lubey” opening up the street from her house. She also reports there’s a new taxi-like service named “Guber” she’d like to look into. While I’m pretty sure she’s talking about Jiffy Lube and Uber, one can never be sure. I’ll report back in a few weeks.
Everything about this story was weird.
From the headline claiming “A Crocodile Snatched a Tourist” to a member of the federal government noting, “If you go in swimming at 10 o’clock at night, you’re going to get consumed.”
I’ll admit, my perspective is colored by never having to worry about being “consumed” after dark.
A colleague recently described how she was sitting in bed one night thinking about some painting she had done recently with her husband.
After a few seconds of listening to her story, I realized she was talking about painting a room, not a date where you go and paint a landscape, or portrait, or something else in an attempt to approximate art.
I laughed and cut into her story explaining that it had taken me a while to figure out she wasn’t talking about a couples activity.
One of the guys chimed in from the corner of the room, “I want your life.”