Vote "Yes"

Lady yelling at me from across the parking lot: "Would you like to sign a petition to legalize medical marijuana?"

Me: "Hell yeah. Bring that over here."

Lady: "Medical marijuana has many medical benefits such as--"

Me, signing: "Lady, you had me at 'marijuana'. Here you go."

Lady: "Thank you very much."

Me: "So you got any?"

Store Story #662

Recently, an elderly couple came into our store in Naples, Florida to discuss some aspect of their account. The lady, somewhat heavy-set, moved quite well and set in her seat with ease. The gentleman, skinny and slightly hunched over, with wisps of gray hair futilely covering his balding head, struggled to his chair. I asked how I could help.

She began discussing her issue, but soon started blinking her eyes in the sunlight that was beaming through the near window directly at her face. Her husband immediately noticed this, struggled back up off his chair, bent slightly over, awkwardly reached out, and with both hands formed a shade that blocked the sun from her eyes.

He looked--well, he looked like an idiot.

"Oh sweetheart," she said. "Please, you don't have to do that."

He replied that it was no problem, just continue.

"I had eye surgery a decade ago," she told me. "I'm supposed to be careful with sun exposure, but I haven't really been sensitive to it for years." She acted frustrated that her husband was in this weird position near her.

But her acting wasn't very good. Her lips curled up slightly at the ends and there was a sparkle in her eyes. Her knight in shining armor was protecting her.

So, sitting behind my desk, seeing this old man looking like some kind of breathing gargoyle playing first base, and this old lady, sitting prim and proper, hiding a smile while she has a weird shadow over her eyes, it hit me what exactly I was looking at.

I was looking at true love.

In that moment, there was nothing more important to that man than his wife, and weird position be damned, he wasn't going to let anything hurt her. I wondered if I would ever love someone that much. I decided I definitely would. Someday.

I also decided that true love could make a man look pretty stupid.

Store Stories #829

It caught me off guard when the door chime rung. Its beeping is usually unnecessary, since sales reps in our stores generally see our customers coming from their vehicles in the parking lot. But I never saw a car pull in. A short, older gentleman with thinning salt-and-pepper hair walked inside. He was probably in his 70s. I’m trained to give a warm greeting when someone comes in, but he beat me to it.

“Hello,” he said with a huge smile and strong Italian accent. “How is this day treating you?”

I instantly liked him. There are some people that carry themselves in such a way that they exude positivity. I could tell this is how he greeted everyone. I returned the greeting.

“I’m having a problem with my smartphone,” he started.

That string of words is all too familiar to wireless reps, and none of us like it. It means:
A. I’m not selling anything.
B. I’m about to spend a lot of time not selling anything.

But it’s part of the job, and I thought I’d enjoy his company, so I listened intently and eventually resolved his issue. He graciously thanked me. He followed that by asking, “So, how’s business?”

“Eh, it’s Summer,” I responded. In Florida, everyone knows that means it’s slow.

He nodded politely, and then seemed to search for another topic. “Well, at least you can catch up on other things in your life.” He smiled.

Immediately I recognized that he didn’t want to leave. In Florida we get a lot of elderly customers that seem lonely and starved for conversation. Sadly, sometimes we have to find ways to ease them out for the sake of business, but this time the store was empty and heck, he was so damn pleasant. I engaged him.

“Yeah, I’ve kept myself pretty busy. Been hitting the gym a lot, riding my bike, and…”

I hesitated for a second. I tell maybe one out of every twenty customers about my double life.

“…and, believe it or not, I have a night job. I’m a standup comedian.”

His eyes lit up. “Really? How exciting! How did you get into that?”

Usually, it’s a story I’m pretty sick of telling, but I jumped into it with him. His enthusiasm was infectious. Soon he knew about the blogging, my old phobia of public speaking, the first time I got on stage, pretty much everything. I also admitted that while I’m excited about what’s going on in my comedy career, I’m getting pretty old to be chasing dreams.

“Preposterous,” he replied. “It’s never too late. I can tell you have a passion for your art. Don’t ever give up on your dream. I think you’ll make it. No, I’m positive you’ll make it. If you have the talent, the passion, and you never give up, you can’t fail.”

He then shook my hand and gestured like he was going to leave. Then he stopped, smiled again, and seemingly to emphasize his point, he repeated himself. “I’m serious. Do not give up on your dream. I fully expect to see you on television someday.” And with that, he got up and left.

I never did see how he got to the store.

Father's Day

My earliest memory of my father is when he was in his late 20s, and took me with him to pick up a new 1974 Chevy Impala. I was three years-old at the time, so the memory is not much more than an image and an emotion, but the image is of me looking out the front window from the passenger seat, and the emotion was pride—as if I had bought the car—and seeing Mom come outside as we pulled into our house in Pensacola, FL.

(Funny side story: Dad got in BIG trouble with Mom for not bringing her car shopping.)

Dad was in the U.S. Navy for my entire childhood, and couldn’t always be there for my sister Lori and me, but I knew he wanted to. When he was home, he assumed the role of “Dad” perfectly: he played with us when we were good and disciplined us when we weren’t so good. When he was away on some months-long deployment, he’d write us letters telling us he loved us, and always buy us things from whatever country in which the U.S.S. Nimitz was in port.

One of my favorite memories is standing on the pier at Naval Station Norfolk in Virginia, waiting for the Nimitz. I was about seven at the time, but even to a full-grown adult a Nimitz-class nuclear carrier is a gigantic thing to behold. The tradition was for all the sailors to be on deck, in their Navy whites, waving to the crowd below. For Lori and me, it was a game of trying to pick out Daddy. At that distance, though, it was futile. But we had no problem picking him out when he came off the ship, and as we ran into his arms screaming “DAAAADDY!” We let Mom get her hug and kiss in eventually.

As I got older, I played the role of the typical stupid, long-haired rebellious teenager, and got into a lot of trouble with the law. Once this required a court appearance where I had a lawyer and there was a prosecuting attorney whose job was to sentence me. I was acquitted, but I’ll never forget who was standing beside me, supporting me, the whole time: my straitlaced, military-bred Dad.

Dad has been an amazing father to me, as well as an incredible husband to my mother. If I end up being half the man he is, I’ll feel I’ve done a good job in this life.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad.

Where's my Dos Equis Tryout?

I've written for a blog that had thousands of readers. I've worn the UPS uniform. I've gotten on stage in front of hundreds of people, with a lone spotlight on me, and made them all laugh. I've seen the Latvian National Opera...in Latvia. I'm on a comedy podcast. I once carried on a three-hour conversation with a Russian fashion model who couldn't speak English.

I've written freelance sports coverage for the local paper. I've made out in a red London phone booth...in London. I've sat in a jail cell for a crime I did not commit. I've been interrogated by The Netherlands equivalent of the TSA in Amsterdam, while hungover. I danced the night away with a professional dancer in the Philippines. I've been in at least two motorcycle accidents.

I once got a private message from Louis CK on MySpace. I got lost late one night in Cancun, Mexico and had to walk a long, lonely stretch of road half drunk and pretty sure I was going to get kidnapped. I also met a sexy Canadian flight attendant down there who taught me what a "phallix" is. I never watch TV. I call a lot of girls "ex-girlfriends" that I never once called "girlfriends". I once scored the only '100' on the Real Estate exam, then never became an agent.

I've been broke. I've been rich. I've been in-between. I've been heartbroken, though I'm not sure I've ever been in love. Todd Glass once handed me a joint. I had to perform the day after one of my close comedian friends died, I bombed, and the only thing I felt was numbness. I've seen the world from the top of the Empire State Building.

Every single thing I've written is absolutely 100% true. That Dos Equis guy can go fuck himself. I'm the most interesting man alive.