Kick the football, George

Sometimes I get the weirdest responses from strangers whom I’ve just met. Always funny. And always unexpected.

Example #1: once the airline cancelled our plane and rescheduled the next day on one of those little regional prop jet jobs. I got on the plane – and got right off. “Too damned small,” I told the flight attendant. The pilot looked at me kinda funny.

By hook and crook and circuitous routing, I did manage to fly to Minneapolis in time for a short business deal.

A few days later, the Mystery Woman and I were at the airport when I decided I needed to double-check on our seat assignments. As I walked up to the ticket counter, the aforementioned pilot happened to walk by. “Hey,” he said to the ticket agent behind the counter, “That guy walked off my plane.”

Before I could open my mouth to ask about my seat assignment, the agent looked me in the eye and wanted to know: “What kind of chicken shit are you?”

True story.

Example #2: We were at the cash register at the venerable old Haufbrau’s eatery in Austin. “How was everything?” asked the guy behind the counter. “My steak was kind of tough, “ I said, holding out my money. He grabbed my twenties and grunted: “It’ll be better next time.”

True story.

Example #3: I was talking to the postal inspector because someone had swiped two envelopes containing absentee ballots right off our mail box. “Wait a minute,” she said. “Before we go any further, who did you vote for?”

True story.

How do these strangers know I will think it’s funny? Seriously. Is there a Charlie Brown sign on my back? Maybe I should scowl more?