Dec 12, 2018

Two More Dumb Real Life Stories

More story time with uncle Kirk.  

Who's Walking Who Here? 


I have two Basset Hounds and they're heavy, low to the ground, and like to pull me to whatever scent they've caught on to.  Often you get the wise-cracking old man "Who's walking who here eh?"  It's not funny and never will be.  But this next story is probably the truest incarnation of this stupid cliche dad joke I've ever seen in person.  



I was about to get to my turn going back to work but then I saw a large dog about a block and a half in front of me running pretty fast across the street.  My first thought was that it had gotten loose but then a second later I see an older, heavy set man running full speed after it. I continued straight towards the action to see if I could help.  When I got closer I saw that the dog was on a leash but it was pulling the shit out of the guy who could barely keep up.  He was doing all he could to not let go or fall on his face.  They both rapidly left my field of view.  Once I turned the corner I saw the man and dog walking normally.  I was curious as to why the dog had just been running like a bat out of hell then I saw two little dogs in a fenced yard on the corner they just passed. Poor guy almost ate shit getting pulled by that horse of a dog. 

A Bad Tattoo Can't Be Fixed With Beans & Rice


I had just came out of one of my favorite restaurants La Patria after some lovely Mexican dinner.  It's really good but it's in a kind of rough part of town.  It's on the corner of a busy intersection on the north end of town where the street turns into a freeway.  There's a gas station across the street and a bus stop that attracts some colorful characters. 

I step out side and holding the door for my girlfriend, Meg and I see a youngish skinny woman with a dog on a leash. She's wearing a puffy jacket and a beanie on top of her long brown hair. She walks right off the sidewalk towards the entrance where I'm standing with the door open and in a sort of drug induced haze sort of pauses as if to wait for me to hold the door for her so she can go inside. Instead she mumbles and then asks me "are you.. . you... Are you open" I'm like "uhhh yea they are open" But I knew full well that she wasn't actually wanting to go into the restaurant because she was probably just a panhandler and she had a dog with her.  Then she raises her hand up to me.  She has her phone in her hand almost putting it in my face.  I was prepared for her to ask if I had spare change or say her phone was dead and needed to use mine.  Meg is taking to the waitress inside still so I close the door and I'm standing here and she keeps engaging with me. She raises her hand up to me more and starts showing me the shitty tattoo on the back of her hand. I notice that it's a skull face. Eyes, nose and the upper teeth but no actual outline and it sort of wraps around the outside to the top of the wrist. I'm sort of trapped between her and the entrance and I'm still not sure what she wants. Then she starts explaining how she got it at a party while she was 'hella drunk' and wants to get it finished or touched up. Ahh now I get it. She thinks that this is a tattoo shop and that I work here. She's asking if I can help her with her shitty, alcohol induced bad decision tattoo. I kinda laughed to myself with this realization and told her "Um, this is a Mexican restaurant" she almost fell into busy traffic when she stumbled backwards, squinting to get a better look at the businesses we were standing in front of. "oooooooooohhh this isn't the tattoo place?"  I informed her that there was a  tattoo shop just a couple blocks down.  This is when Meg came out finally. The chick asks "oh which way was it?" I pointed.  "oh ok thanks"  then her and her dog stumbled off down the street.



Dec 6, 2018

Three Dumb Real Life Stories

Thing 1. 
Thanks For Checking In!

Illustration by Kirk Shelton
I'm in the bathroom at work finishing up a number two and someone walks in and takes a spot at one of the urinals.  As I'm pulling up my pants I hear a loud boisterous voice echoing off the tile walls say "...You OK?  I'm just checking in"   Since I maybe was in there longer than maybe someone else with a better constitution my instant reaction was that he was talking to me.  Before he said anything else I buttoned my pants and opened the stall door to see a man pressing his midsection into the urinal with his legs slightly spread for balance.  He had one hand on the wall in front of him and the other holding his OtterBox clad cell phone.  I walk past him to the sink to start washing my hands and hear his voice again.  The next words I hear were "So did you clean it up good?  Did you scrape it all out?"   Now I'm trying not to laugh since I know he's not talking to me now but I really want to answer him truthfully.  "Yep, all clean!  Didn't have to scrape it out but thanks for checking in"  I didn't actually say this tho because he was on the phone and had his dick out.  I still think it's slightly weird talking to strangers while their dick is out.  Especially sarcastic jokes about poop in my butt.   I finished washing, giggling to myself as I walked out and told the first co-worker I saw about it.


Thing 2.
The Sheriff of Humboldt St.

Illustration by Kirk Shelton
I was driving to work yesterday morning and saw something interesting and sort of humorous.  I got to the end of my street and saw a skinny older fellow standing on the corner.  He had an old backpack and a floppy red ball cap. Dressed in newish looking jeans held up by a very worn leather belt tightened all the way up to what was probably an added belt hole with about 10" of excess belt hanging in front and a plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up because it was too big for him.   His ears and pocked nose were also too big for his head.  As I pulled up to him at the corner he was focused on something coming down the street and he pursed his lips which made his jaw close to far because of a lack of teeth.  He aimed his pointed finger out at the cross street in front of us.  I look over and see that he's pointing at a young transient on a stolen BMX bike carrying a Hefty bag of aluminum cans over his shoulder.   The old man now has one eye closed looking down the barrel of his finger, he follows the guy on the bike with it as he rides passed.  Then jerks his hand back and up with an imaginary BANG!  In that instant I shared the same disdain towards the creep on the bike and congratulated him with a look.  We locked eyes for a second and with confidence and a sense of accomplishment he put his still pointed finger up to his mouth and blew.  Just like in the movies when someone blows the gun-smoke from the barrel.  In the same motion took a step back to reveal his imaginary gun belt, holstered his finger pistol,  turned his head in front of him and continued on his way proudly down the street.   I somehow feel like the streets are a bit safer now.

Thing 3.
He Wanted it Grilled



I'm waiting for my burrito at the taco stand at 14th & Broadway and this guy starts talking to me.  He had a thick accent and seemed to be from somewhere around North Africa or the Middle East.  I couldn't help but notice his huge headset with a module on the earpiece with buttons and big microphone that wraps around like a pop-singer from the late-90's.  He says he's a trucker with a 75ft trailer.  I politely acknowledge this seemingly unnecessarily forthcoming information.  He then motions like he's sawing something with his hand pointed toward and parallel with the road we were on, which happened to be Broadway which is also Highway 101.  In broken english asks if this is 101.  I tell him that it is but with a hint of concern dancing gently on my brow since he had just told me that he's what I could only assume a professional truck driver and hauler of goods.  He says he's wondering if he'll be able to continue South on 101 to San Francisco with the length of truck he has.  He mentions to me that he came on 299 and that it was very bad.  Highway 299 is a very windy and narrow route that runs from the middle of California running from the East to the West coast which is where we are.   I'm now thinking to myself,  and I'm no expert but anyone who knows a little bit about this area would agree that if he came on 299 he should have no problem taking 101 the rest of the way.  It's basically the only major trucking route that runs the nearly 300 miles direct from San 
Illustration by Kirk Shelton
Francisco to here.    But just to be safe I said that he should check with CHP or some other kind of highway authority.  Again in my head thinking I dunno, maybe he should ask another so-called trucker that knows what the fuck they're doing.   Because like, isn't knowing where the major highways are and all about major trucking routes, kind of part of your fucking job? 

Then his eyes got big as if he'd remembered something urgent and turned back towards the order window "excuse me! Hello!"  He got their attention. While crouched down so his head is at the height of the order window he starts making a hand gesture like his hands were an alligator mouth. "Can you make my burrito hot, you know, grilled..."  opening and closing like a panini machine. "You know grilled, hot."  I could neither hear nor see the woman inside the order window behind the mesh screen but I knew exactly the face she was making.  It was a combination of  "I don't speak english & I don't know what you mean" and "what the fuck? grilled? this is a damn taco trailer on the street we don't grill our burritos"  I
t was pretty much the face I was making while watching him try to order a grilled burrito at a taco trailer.  Then he turned back around kind of shrugged his shoulders and put up his hands with a frustrated look on his face that was a combination of "They must not speak english" and  "Idiots! I went to a taco place that has grilled burritos just yesterday"  
Usually I tend to trust a professional truck driver over most people out on the roads to know what they're doing out there but motherfucker didn't know he was actually ON highway 101.  Man learn to read a map.... Also this isn't a Taco Bell.   Be safe out there.



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That's it for the things.  Thanks for reading.  Talk to you again soon.