The Tourist
Banned
My wife and I receive packages everyday, and stacks of mail. I usually get home first and sort out the mess. Lots of times we get checks from clients, and then both my wife and I get to eat meat...
As I'm flipping through the envelopes, I spot a check from a client. Now I can throw out that big box of leaves and corncobs in the bathroom.
As I start the laundry, I begin to open the envelopes, and the check is gone. First thing, check the dogs' mouths. Do laugh, it happened before.
Failing that, I check the floor, the truck, I even dip my hand into the washing machine. De nada. Panic sets in.
I race to the mailbox and check both ways up and down the street. It's a windy autumn day here in Wisconsin. Nothing.
I race back inside and out of the corner of my eye I see a corner of paper on the lid of my truck. In grabbing the bundle of mail, the check stuck to the fiberglas lid of my F-150.
Now, I'm not a brave man in the traditional sense of the word. Yes, I'll waltz with a townie and a stiletto over a spilled drink for a touch of pride. I once fell asleep at an IRS audit. Going +95 on the slab in third wound snug, sauce for the goose.
But losing a check as a retired guy on a fixed income gazing at a box of corncobs, now that scares me...
As I'm flipping through the envelopes, I spot a check from a client. Now I can throw out that big box of leaves and corncobs in the bathroom.
As I start the laundry, I begin to open the envelopes, and the check is gone. First thing, check the dogs' mouths. Do laugh, it happened before.
Failing that, I check the floor, the truck, I even dip my hand into the washing machine. De nada. Panic sets in.
I race to the mailbox and check both ways up and down the street. It's a windy autumn day here in Wisconsin. Nothing.
I race back inside and out of the corner of my eye I see a corner of paper on the lid of my truck. In grabbing the bundle of mail, the check stuck to the fiberglas lid of my F-150.
Now, I'm not a brave man in the traditional sense of the word. Yes, I'll waltz with a townie and a stiletto over a spilled drink for a touch of pride. I once fell asleep at an IRS audit. Going +95 on the slab in third wound snug, sauce for the goose.
But losing a check as a retired guy on a fixed income gazing at a box of corncobs, now that scares me...
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