Monday, August 22, 2011

i am *probably* not a serial killer.

But if you asked Diane at the Kroger I frequently shop at, she might tell you differently.

So, after returning from yet another weekend spent in at a trashy casino, I decided to head to the grocery store to get my little ducks in a row for the coming work week.

Other than the fact that I did not have to yell at any patrons who feel it is their right to cut in front of me in the Express Lane (with more than 15 items), it was a pretty standard trip: milk, eggs, salt & vinegar Pringles, and a box of wine. You know, the usual.

Anyway, if you've kept up with my blog, you probably know I am in a feud with Ellen Paige by starting a national craze called "wigging." By 'national', I mean me. And by 'craze', I mean I'm crazy.

If efforts to keep this ball rolling, I once again went 'wigging' with one of my new most favorite people of all time. The results were once again flawless:


Well, almost flawless.


My friend may or may not have come out of the entire incident with a small bald spot because I never warned anyone (or myself) that when 'wigging' one should be extra careful when dealing with expensive and beautiful artificial hair.

I knew what I had to do: take this fallen hair extension as a relic from an incredible adventure. Like a movie stub from a great first date... or your first date's watch.

I tucked the little lovely into my back pocket and began thinking of names. Name deciding quickly turned into more drinking, so I pretty much forgot about it...

Cut to a week later and I'm where this story began: at the Kroger, standing in front of Diane, searching for the nearest emergency exit.

As I reached into my back pocket for my wallet, the hair extension fell out onto the counter. Only, my relic (along with my jean shorts they were in) had been through the washer and dryer a few times. It now resembled something a cat would throw up or something you would find in the drain at a trucker stop.


Diane and I looked at each other, and I swiped my Visa and grabbed the hair faster than a tranny on a crack pipe. I avoided any further eye contact and ran to my car.

Also, when I got carded for my wine, I mistakenly handed her my hotel room key. I'm fairly certain Diane has alerted the local authorities as well as the hotel staff of the Holiday Inn Express of Durant, Oklahoma.

In conclusion, my next blog post might be coming from prison... I'll let you know if it is anything like Oz.

8 comments:

Isaac said...

HA HA HA - John, GREAT writing. While I'm not 100% sold on "wigging" yet (I'll stick to my planking), it sure makes for a hilarious story. Cheers!

John said...

You should really give it a try. There are pros and cons. Sometimes planking hurts or gets your shirt all dirty while wigging just gets you REALLY strange looks and if you're lucky, souvenir hair balls.

Shane Pilgrim said...

Haha...you should have looked at her and said, "And if you say anything, it will be your hair next!"

Then you run out of the store laughing maniacally.

Then enjoy life as a comically innocent fugitive!

~SP

Ashley said...

For me, the reader, that was humorous. For you, the person it happened to, perhaps not as much, lol.

Cassandra said...

I reserve my judgement on the "serial killer" classification until later. The *probably* and the hotel key make me suspicious.

Luda said...

I bet Diane's at the hotel right now, wondering why you won't answer the door, heartbroken.

John said...

I'm going back to the store tonight for a few things. I hope they aren't suspicious of my purchase of heavy duty trash bags, industrial strength cleaner, and like 50 Glade Plugins...

Valerie said...

I just stumbled onto your blog from The Bloggess. I'm cry-laughing over this post! Love it!!