No, this isn’t a post about my adventures in Wisconsin. Somebody has yet to transfer the pictures from the camera to the computer, so I haven’t been able to publish anything concerning the Midwest.
Have no fear, those Wisconsin photos will be up soon.
Yesterday, when I got off work, I had two tasks I needed to accomplish before I was done for the day. I had to deposit my most recent series of student loan checks, and buy a toilet plunger for the house.
Both of these tasks created minor problems that had to be overcome before completion, the kind of minor problems that drive me crazy but would not even phase other people. Its just how I am.
Before the loan checks could be deposited, I had to go home and get them from wherever my lesson ended. I ended up on the opposite side of the city in relation to our house, but I was near many potential sites to deposit the checks I didn’t have. That was the first thing to piss me off.
I made it all the way home, and one of the checks still needed to be signed by Corinne because she was the cosigner on the loan. From home, I had to go to her office because it occurred to me that I have no clue what her signature even looks like. I knew it was all girlie and flowing, but thats true for most women. In other words, I wasn’t about to forge her signature.
I’m pretty sure Corinne’s office is just about the farthest point in Fresno from a Washington Mutual bank.
At the bank, things were uneventful. Checks were deposited, days were told to be nice, etc.
The bank I chose to go to was a few miles from the hardware store I chose to go to, Fresno Ag.
At Fresno Ag, I got caught up in a conversation about old plumbing with the guy that showed me where the plungers were. That was a total waste of time, but the guy seemed genuinely interested in the 80 year old pipes under my house. He wouldn’t let me leave, he just wanted to talk about galvanized iron pipes and other nonsense. It got to the point where I straight up told him that I need to go home and clear the toilet so I can take a shit.
I hastily said thank you to the pipe connousieur, and started walking towards the counter to purchase my plunger. By the way, in the two years since I have installed that toilet, this is the first time it has clogged. I blame it on the final expulsion of greasy, cheesy Wisconsin food from my insides.
Anyway, at Fresno Ag they have drink coolers by the check out lines. I was rather thirsty, so I scanned for a suitable beverage.
Of all the places I’ve been in my lifetime, the last thing I expected to see in a cooler at a hardware store in Fresno was Yoo-Hoo. Not just an ordinary 12 ounce bottle, but a 15 ounce can of chocolate drink goodness.
I need to backtrack a bit here: From the time I got off work until I saw the Yoo-Hoo, I was totally pissed off and on the verge of killing innocent bystanders. Traffic was crazy, it seemed like nobody was paying attention to anything on the road. Twice I missed exits off the freeway because nobody would let me over to the right even though I had my turn signal on for a good mile or so. And don’t even get me started on the amount of old people that were out driving, trying to get to the Country Kitchen Buffet or the Luby’s. (Ok, Fresno doesn’t have a Luby’s, but you get the idea.)
Nobody noticed my rage because I didn’t talk to anybody that I knew. At home, none of the dogs were inside for me to kick around. (I’m kidding, I don’t kick dogs. Just Eddie because he’s to fat to feel it) At Corinne’s office, she was on the phone so I just handed her the check, she signed it, and I left. At the bank, I wasn’t about to make a scene and get tackled by the security guard. (Although I’m pretty sure I could have taken him, he was a real skinny dude)
All that rage ended as I drove home from the store and sipped my Yoo-Hoo. I love that stuff. As a kid, it was the one of the few things that made me happy. Ok, I’m exaggerating. It was the only thing.
I love Yoo-Hoo. I found out later that night that Corinne doesn’t like to drink it because it’s “like chocolate water.”
Yeah, and? Why wouldn’t you love chocolate water? So now I don’t like Corinne as much because she doesn’t like Yoo-Hoo.
I’m pretty sure the drinking of the Yoo-Hoo led me to have a great evening. Dinner, beers, strippers, and more beer. And to finish it off, a late night carne asada burrito from Robertitos. And finally a Miller Chill, which isn’t really a beer but it was cold and alcoholic.
Yoo-Hoo, you truly are the drink of the Gods.