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July 15, 2015

Aw Chucks...

My favorite store is Chuck's Produce.  

It is some bizarre portal that transforms from a local produce store to my personal meat market once the automatic doors close behind me.  

If I'm in a hurry, I wear the ruby ring my mom gave me for my birthday.  That way I can get out within an hour.  Without the ring, I'm a conversation vortex, disguised as a woman squeezing and sniffing fruit.  
  

Yeah, I know, I'm a sturdy girl. 
Today the produce boy stocking cherries had a stomach ache because he ate a scorpion pepper a half hour prior to my arrival.  I ordered him to go drink some milk, but he didn't want to get in trouble.  In retrospect, he could have used a hug.

In the checkout line, there was young, blond gentleman who looked like he had walked right off the page of a 1960's surfing ad.  As I enthusiastically made room for his items on the conveyer belt, his young Robert Redford handsomeness distracted me, and my basket went flying off the end- which I caught in mid-air.  It was the single greatest moment of my life.  

I told him that I was a ninja, which opened the door to conversation and unskilled flirting.  It was awkward and wonderful, and I think I love him.

When I left, I was hoping to see him in the parking lot.  That way I could show off what a cool car I have...and according to stereotypes, my really small penis too.  

Behind me is Alvin, my little red Miata.  Me?  Just call me Hedwig....(not pictured: the angry inch). 

So, on those glum days when my life soundtrack is playing "The Old Gray Mare, She Ain't What She Used to Be", I head on over to Chuck's and buy some reasonably priced local produce.  Over there, I'm still a hot tomato.  (Ha cha cha!)  






Breakdown

Monday

(Katt has a meltdown to her friends.)

Katt:  Tell me I'm not old! 

Friends:  You're not old! 

Katt:  (Scowls)  Stop blowing sunshine up my ass.


Tuesday

(Katt has another meltdown, sits against her front door throwing shoes from the pile next to her, texting friends.)

Katt:  (via text)  Tell me I'm not old!  I can work out more, burn off more layers of skin, but I can't change my birthdate.  It's too late to start fresh.  What if I lose my sex appeal?  

Friends: (via text)  You're not old!  


Wednesday

Twentysomething Men on Tinder:  You're gorgeous!..What?...Um no, you're not old.  


Also Wednesday

(Katt at the doctor's office.)

Doctor: (points to x-rays)  You have early onset arthritis in both knees.  

Katt:  Goddammit.


(The End.) 

Epilogue

 Katt:  Told you so. 

I would like to thank Amazon for keeping me company while I waited in the exam room alone for what felt like an eternity.  They kept me there so long, I bought a mandolin online.  I have no idea how to play the mandolin. 



I also don't know how to play the Uke.  Guess what?  I don't really need glasses.  Katt Funny is my real name though.  Yep...born in 1982 in Kattmandoodie.  







Product of the 80's

1.) President Carter was still in office when I was born.  

2.) History has proven (I'm going to go ahead and say "scientifically") that the eighties were the greatest time to be a kid.  

3.) My favorite Garbage Pail Kids card was the one with the conjoined twins. 

4.) I thought my Thriller viewfinder showed actual footage of Michael Jackson transforming into a monster.  

5.) I sucked my thumb until I was ten.  

6.) My mom told me that if I wore my headgear to school, the kids would think I was rich because they're so expensive.  

7.). I'm still afraid of the dark, which is why there are LED Christmas lights strung all around my apartment.  This fact is possibly unrelated.  Possibly.   



I tickle myself pink.

Minor Problems

I'm back on Tinder- but this time I'm doing it right.  By that, I mean having my dates sign media release forms.  I just printed out some to keep in my glove compartment.  Yes, I made sure to include a section for their guardian's signature.  

The older I get, the more I look like incriminating evidence on Gary Glitter's computer.