Charitable Donation

As I approach my friendly neighborhood Wal-Mart I see a little table set up with a cardboard science fair display. There's a man standing there with a bucket of change talking on his phone. He sees me and does a double take. I lower my gaze and forge ahead, hoping that the phone will occupy him.

It doesn't.

He pulls the phone away from his ear and undulates. "How *you* doin?"
I don't respond and keep walking.
"God bless you, girl!"

Upon my exit, I know he'll still be there. He asks if I have any change for disaster relief. I don't have any cash.

I'm walking away, which doesn't faze him in the least. "You know what? I love you anyway. And God blesses you. You know why? You beautiful. You got a crisis in yo life?"

This forces me to stop and turn. "No. Not really."

He brings his hand to his heart and shakes his head soulfully. "You will. Just stay beautiful. God bless you."

I thank him and run.

Seriously? I can see you.

Today while walking through the parking lot of my neighborhood Trader Joes I saw a man look me up and down from behind his sunglasses. I turned and gave him a scowl but he continued in his persistent gaze. I held up my pointer finger at him and said, "Sir, this is not for you."

His mouth fell open and he walked away.

Don't Bug Me

Imagine for a moment that you are on a lovely camping trip. You're enjoying a cup of coffee by the campfire with your family and best friends, when your eleven year old daughter comes tearing through the trees. She's screaming her head off and near sobbing. You spring from your chair and do a quick visual analysis: she has all of her limbs and there's no blood. You ask her what's wrong and she sobs:

"A june bug tried to french kiss me!!!"

Sorry, mom.

That's why I hate june bugs.