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Bradless

   Hey, everyone. I usually procrastinate about buying Carley's Christmas stuff. On such occasions I go to the mall and find that everything is picked over and depleted or out of stock. Today I did better and was out on the front lines. I love seeing all the women who watch guys shop for their wives. They consider us clueless and clumsy about women's stuff. I walked past a check out stand and a bunch of ladies were laughing about a clerk's story of an incident. One of the women said, "That had to be a man, right?" All these ladies were laughing their butts off. Always good to bring joy to women in whatever capacity possible. Ha, ha.
      Moving on, I selected a tasteful bunch of stuff for Carley and went to check out. The clerk said that the computer wouldn't accept my card as a 'credit', so I should type in my pin number. Now, I am one of those guys who does not know his pin number. If I stored useless information of this sort, I would have no room in my mind for the Falcons' record and stats, mental pictures of Angelina Jolie in black lingerie and a myriad of other vital things. So, I had to dig in my wallet and get my cash out. I have always carried a lot of cash because I don't feel confident in cards. Having grown up dirt poor, I am embarrassed easily by little things like having my card rejected.
      Mission accomplished, I leave the store and know that my Christmas shopping is done. Now, however, the scenario is changed. Here I was, all dressed up and no where to go. My plan had been to go to Logan's Roadhouse and eat massive quantities of steak, ribs, Parmesan wings, baked potato (loaded) and a huge salad. Oops, I forgot the fresh rolls. But now, I don't trust my card and I only have enough cash left for a value meal at McDonald's. Worse than that, I can't go to the movies. I had planned on seeing Brad Pitt's new flick, in which he plays a hit man for the mob. Did I get to go see it? Noooooooooo.
     As I was driving home, my wife called me from work. I told her about this burden, which I was managing to bear up under, and she laughed at me.
"You're so silly, baby. That stuff happens all the time. Your card would have worked at the restaurant, or the theater. Besides you could have gone to a bank, an ATM or done a number of other things, like cash a check, for instance."
 "Yes, I know," I said evenly. "But I am a writer and we live in a fantasy world. We try to limit our interaction with reality, lest it hinder our craft."
    She laughed and hung up on me. I have now returned home, Bradless, broke, (cash-wise) and hungry. I think I will buy a bunch of songs on I-Tunes, drink some beer and then play sad country songs on my keyboard until she gets home. Maybe she will bring me some food?
     From the author's green retreat, I'm CE Wills.

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