Put on your hard hats, post ideas are falling from the sky today.
First, a confession. I had a major blonde moment today. I was trying to get cash from an ATM at one of my hospitals. The machine looked ancient. I put my card in, entered my PIN, and then couldn't get the thing to give me any money. I couldn't select the options: there were options in green, red, and black, with buttons on the keypad in corresponding colors. I tried pushing every button, then pulled my card out and tried again. Same deal.
I did this 5 times, then tried a different card. Same thing. Disgusted, I headed off to my case with no cash (and no coffee, grrr...). I asked the folks in the lab if they've ever had troubles with the machine. No, no one else ever had that issue. I figured the damn thing was malfunctioning and someone would probably be fixing it.
6 hours later, I tried one more time before I left the hospital. Same thing. As I pulled out my card to leave, a light bulb went on. I swear, there had to be one above my head!!
I put my card back in, entered the PIN, and USED THE TOUCH SCREEN. Voila!! Money!! (giant forehead slap) Some days I'm just so blonde it hurts.
There I was, commuting (hate it!), warily watching the bumper-riding teenage driver behind me as she held her phone in one hand and twirled her hair with her other. I had my escape route all planned out like a good driver. I pulled up to a stoplight, braced for the impact, and when it didn't come I turned my attention to the car in front of me.
Crud. Why did I do that? I now have one of those brain-eating questions that Lewis Black talks about. The one you will NEVER learn the answer to:
"...when from behind me, a woman of 25 uttered the dumbest thing I'd ever heard in my life ... She said, 'If it weren’t for my horse, I wouldn’t have spent that year in college.'
I'll repeat that.
I'll repeat that because that's the kind of sentence that when you hear it, your brain comes to a screeching halt. And the left hand side of the brain looks at the right hand side and goes, 'It's dark in here. And we may die.'
She said, 'If it weren't for my horse...' as in, giddy up, giddy up, let's go -
'I wouldn't have spent that year in college...' a degree-granting institution.
Don't! Don't think about that sentence for more than three minutes, or blood'll shoot out your nose. The American medical profession doesn't know why we get an aneurysm. It's when a blood vessel bursts in our head for no apparent reason.
There's a reason.
You're at the mall one day, and somebody over there says the dumbest thing you've ever heard and it goes in your ear. So you turn around to see if your friends heard it, 'cause if your friends heard it, and you can talk about what the jackass said, then it'll be gone. But your friends are over here, pretending they're gonna buy a cellular phone, and they're not gonna buy a cellular phone, because they don't even understand how the rate structure works.
So you turn back, to find the person who said it, because if you can ask 'em a question like, 'WHAT THE F**K ARE YOU TALKIN' ABOUT?!' ...then it'll go away. But they're gone.
And now those words are in your head. And those words don't go away.
'Cause the way I see it, 7% of our brains functions all the time, because 99% of everything that happens is the same old stuff. We get it. All right. Move on. Get it. Right.
But every so often, somethin' like that happens:
'If it weren't for my horse, I wouldn't have spent that year in college.'
So your brain goes, 'LET'S FIGURE IT OUT! Son of a Bitch! I wonder what that's about?!!'
I wonder, was she riding the horse to school? No, she wouldn't be riding the horse to school.
Maybe it was a polo pony? She had a Polo Pony Scholarship.
Maybe she sold the horse and that's how she...?
....She was betting on the horse!
WHAT THE F**K!!!!
And then you realize that anybody who went to college would never SAY anything that stupid in public...and as soon as you have that thought, your eyes close...
And the next morning they find you dead in your bathroom."
(The White Album, 2000)
Pardon Lewis' language, he claims that F**K is his "thinking word;" you know, instead of "like...uhm..." Much more colorful.
Anywho, back to my own personal brain-eating question. The license plate in front of me reads:
No, I did not type that incorrectly. That's what it read. Phonetically, that would be "poh-nee-eet-uhr"
I'll let that eat your brain for a moment.
U crazy yet?
Because I'm going freakin' NUTS.
So my brain is running wild. The car is a recent model Buick LeSabre - and the guy driving is about 75 years old (I can see his white combover through the rear windshield). He's turning into Wal-Mart. So what's with PONYETR? Is it his last name? Unlikely. Is it some kind of vulgarity? That's a long shot.
So does he, literally, eat ponies? Like horse meat? Doesn't seem likely that its something a person would feel the need to advertise on a license plate.
Gathering speed, my mind downshifts and hits the accelerator. Now it's spewing other license plates that follow this theme (for my non-US readers: the standard US license plate is 7 letters and/or numbers):
Jeffrey Dahmer's plate: MANEATR (would also work for Hall & Oates)
Drunken Sot: BEEFETR (or a rampant carnivore)
Lord Voldemort: DETHETR
Hunger Striker: NONEATR
Insert your favorite food here: PIG- COW- CHIK- FISH- ETR
Deity on earth: SUNEATR, MOONETR, STARETR,
Foot Fanatic: ODORETR
Obese Driver: UBERETR
Always Wrong: CROWETR
I finally got the brakes applied and my brain skidded to a screeching halt. I had to find something that I could accept as reasonable so I could sweep this issue under my mental rug and move on.
So here it is: my backstory to the shiny black LeSabre with grandpa behind the wheel and the license plate proclaiming: PONYETR.
So this old guy saved all his money when he was a young man to buy a muscle car, say a Dodge Charger. He used to drag race the thing, and his biggest competition was a guy driving a Ford Mustang. As a cocky gesture, he went out and got himself a license plate that read PONYETR, and he's never been able to let it go since it makes him feel young.
Either that, or that was his nickname in WWII.
Any thoughts on this one?