They Call Me George

I am a one woman running episode of Seinfeld, and in it, I unfortunately play the role of George Costanza.

Here are the highlights of my day so far:

1. As I left my house to go visit Mimi at work, I glanced at my neighbor's house. Friday is trash day. They were tossing out a perfectly good office chair that was made out of cherry wood and a light tan leather. I am totally redoing my house right now so...I hoisted that motherfucker into the back of my truck and drove off. That, my friends, is what I like to call recycling. Suck on that Jack Johnson! It only occurred to me three hours later, after talking to Snivets on the phone, that the chair might be the carrier of disease. It might've been used in porno flicks. I might be the new owner of an Orgasm Chair. Or maybe our neighbors have a meth lab in their house and they spilled some toxic chemical on it that might make my nails fall off.

The solution to this problem: Lysol and a handi vac. Done and done.

According to Snivets, I could use a cleanser specifically designed to kill the AIDS virus and my chair would still have AIDS. Thanks, Bro.

2. Upon visiting my cousin at work, I set off three security alarms when exiting the store and failed to wait for the pat down. They probably think she was handing me items to steal, which neither of us would do in a million years (I realize that I just devoted the previous paragraph to an account of swiping my neighbor's office chair. That is totally different. Once that chair is on the street, it is fair game). I don't have time for 2 things in life: playing grab ass and horse shit. Pretty sure she might be getting fired sometime soon though.

3. There's this gas station called Fabulous Freddy's here in Vegas. They hire kids to pump your gas for you. I hate this service. I like pumping my own gas. It suits me just fine. I also think you have to tip them, which really irritates me because gas prices are through the roof right now. Why the shit would I pay someone to do something that I can do on my own?

Another annoying factor is that they bolt after you the moment you get out of your car, like crazy pan handlers.

"Would you like me to pump your gas for you?" Well, let me think about that, I am already out of my car, holding my credit card, and standing next to the gas pump. Yes, I think you should go ahead and pump it for me. Then, we can stand here in awkward silence while you wonder how much I will tip you and I do a mental inventory of how many quarters I have in my car.

"No thank you."

100% of the time, they will say, "Ok, well have a Fabulous day!" They're supposed to say that, only it comes across as totally sarcastic and passive aggressive. Why not just say "Have a Fabulous Day motherfucker. I hope you burn in hell!"

I literally RUN out of my car, swipe my card and start pumping gas in under 15 seconds because of Fabulous Freddy's. All to avoid the "Have a Fabulous day!"