The New Guy

I was fortunate in that I did not move around a lot as a child.

 After being born in Detroit, I moved to New Hampshire when I was one year old (I typically fabricate the amount of time I spent on the mean streets of the midwest because when people of the serene, still and slow moving suburbs hear that I am from Detroit they have a tendency to BACK OFF!) So I can't empathize with people who walk into a new school and think "I have no idea who these people are, where I am or where I'm supposed to be."

However, this is essentially the feeling I have any time I walk out of a store and look out on the vastness of vehicles in any parking lot bigger than a two car garage. My life will never be turned into a movie because there's not nearly enough conflict or romance to keep anyone's interest and sadly, the title "Dude, Where's My Car?" has already been taken. With the amount of time I've spent standing at a crosswalk with a bag full of freezer meals and ice cream, I can honestly say that the most aptly named invention I've ever encountered is the panic button.

Hopeless Shopper and the Goblet of Flavorlessness

So far, since moving out on my own I have accidentally purchased plantains instead of bananas, extra crunchy peanut butter instead of normal peanut butter that doesn’t serve as a viable alternative to gravel and avocado flavored Ranch dressing instead of regular ranch dressing because I firmly believe that not everything needs to taste like avocados. In what is now the fourth  installment of “My Mistakes at Market Basket” I accidentally bought an apple juice labeled “Tots First Apple Juice” which boasts about having 40% less sugar which is kind of the equivalent of me bragging about my income to my dad. “Hey you know that useful stuff that you love? Well, this things got wayyy less of it!” So, if I resort back to “baby babble” and throwing a tantrum about eating fruits and vegetables, you all know why. I paid for it, so I’m going to drink it, but the plan is to start paying attention and sincerely hope that there is not a follow up to Hopeless Shopper and the Goblet of Flavorlessness.

DorkCenter Top 10

Sometimes I feel like I don’t get enough credit. Like when a pen rolls off the table and I catch it in midair and then look  around like “Did you see that?!?!” Then  I remember that I live by myself.

Or when I’m walking past a door that suddenly flies open so I juke out of the way and avoid being hit. I instantly get the impression that I should be dubbed the “Dion Lewis of the Doorways.” They ought to come up with something for situations like that. Something for people with no athletic aspirations whatsoever who show brief moments of brilliance, ya know? Like a “DorkCenter Top 10.”