Bubble repair

My facial fetus appears to be self-aborting, though slowly. Today, in an attempt to repair the damage I did to it yesterday, I decided to let it breathe. “Guess you’re not going to the doctor?” ROFL asked me. “No, I’ve got topical ointments,” I advised him while applying the ointment. “A shiny shiner. Perfect,” he said and left my office.

After I applied the ointment, I put some lotion on my hands – living in such a dry climate is horrible for my skin. I then started eating my breakfast burrito and, not surprisingly, each bite smelled like kiwi lime. I should have waited to repair my dry hands.

A couple of hours later I decided to clean my keyboard. I grabbed a can of compressed gas and started spraying. Luckily, we don’t have any huffers in my office, so it worked like a charm. Being that I didn’t eat all of my burrito, because it smelled like kiwi lime but tasted of rice, beans and eggs, I was starving.

I heated up my veggie balls and noodles and each bite smelled of compressed gas. “You really need to stop smelling before you eat,” Sleepless advised me at dinner, while I was smelling my the cucumber in my martini. She’s probably right.

One of our regular servers seemed a bit miffed with us and finally said, “You never came in to have coffee. You said we were going to have coffee,” he told me. “I did?” I asked. He then offered to bring Sleepless another drink and said to me, “I’m not getting you drunk. You can’t remember any of your promises. You’re staying sober.” Sleepless immediately began trying to repair this broken relationship.

Being that we had to dine and dash, quickly, our server offered to let us exit through the kitchen. “We’re going out back to have sex,” he told the staff as we hustled toward the kitchen exit. Between that comment and the bill, that relationship is most likely beyond repair. He’ll figure that out on his own though, no need for me to burst his bubble.

We arrived at the theater late, but just in time to see them repair the bubble. This is a move where they bend their knees, place a hand on their groin and a hand on their rump, then straighten their legs while extending their arms in the shape of a bubble. “We really need to start repairing our bubbles like this,” Sleepless told me.

If we do, we may end up the laughing stock of the neighborhood…again.