Another is the church bus. Now this isn’t any church bus. It’s an old school bus, its former screaming yellow now painted a dull gray blue. And it has the church name on the side. But over the exhaust pipe, in the back, someone has painted the words “holy smoke.” You just can’t make that stuff up.
There’s the guy who stands on the sidewalk on one of the busiest streets in town. And he casts his fishing line out, and he reels the fish in, all the while blowing raspberries with his lips. The catch is there is no “catch” — there is no lake, no water, no fishing pole, no fish. He just stands there and reels in air.
Finally, there was dinner the other night. It was about 7 of us, at a restaurant. It was late, the crowd had died down, and our server? Well, she wouldn’t leave. She brought the appetizers. Stood there. One of us thanked her. She still stood there. I looked around. Is there some new rule that you tip by the course? Then she sighed, stood there some more. Started talking about how they had to stop serving the queso and the spinach artichoke dip in the little black skillets because people were complaining about the crud buildup on them, then how the customers started complaining when they stopped using the little skillets, so now they are using the skillets without crud on them. Then she left, but only for a minute. We stopped asking for drink refills because we knew once she came back she wouldn’t leave again. Started talking about the LSU football game that had been on the big-screen TV’s earlier. Said how “sad” it was. Sad? Ummm, we had just beaten an undefeated, top-5 team in overtime. I asked if she was an Alabama fan. She said, no, she loves LSU. The game was just sad. Ummm, yeah, sweetie, okaaaaay. Those of us seated at the table had to stop looking at each other. Any eye contact would have resulted, at that point, in uncontrollable laughter, the kind that used to happen to you in church, or any other place or time that laughter was inappropriate. I don’t even have to tell you how long she stayed after the entrees arrived. We almost made room for her in the booth. Oh, and when she said, “I’m not mental or anything, ya know. . .” See? A Seinfeld episode right there, just waiting to be written. Well, maybe not nowwww, but. . .
So humor is where you find it. Or where it finds you. And sometimes takes up residence. Check, please.
Have a great weekend!