Tuesday, December 9, 2008

A Good Samaritan, but not the best.

I can’t believe how paranoid I am.

I had just gotten lunch from the Corner Bakery in my building and was headed back up to the office when I heard, “Young man! Young man!” from behind me. I figured that the homeless had decided to start begging in the lobby, so I tried to ignore it and keep walking. But I began to feel guilty and turned to see an old woman staring at me, her hands stretched towards me, grasping a bottle of orange juice.

“Can you open this for me?” She asked. “I’m not strong enough to open it.”

“Uh, sure,” I replied as I reached over and twisted the cap off the bottle still clutched in her hands.

She smiled with gratitude. “Thank you so much! What’s your name?”

“Andrew.”

She smiled wider. “God bless you, Andrew.”

As I rode up the escalator back to my office, I should have been feeling pride and a sense of reward for helping a little, old lady in her time of need.

Unfortunately, the only thing I was feeling was my pockets to make sure she hadn’t stolen my wallet.

Monday, December 1, 2008

An ass over bass.

Why must I always be the antagonist?

I was eating out at some burger place with some co-workers and the new girl was going over the menu when she noticed they offered a fish sandwich. She started going off on how a burger place shouldn’t even give the option of a fish sandwich. As if it was against the very soul of a hamburger restaurant to serve fish and was only included to appease the prissy crowd that wasn’t man enough for real meat.

So I ordered the fish sandwich. I didn’t even want the fish sandwich. I just wanted to rub it in her face.

Eat that, bitch.