My Life Is A Mentos Ad
Or at least this morning's part of it was. Let me explain.
The Turdlog reader will recall the ads. I think one went roughly this way: a man in a business suit, looking like he's about to go to a big-time important function, sits on a white bench just before the painter puts up the WET PAINT sign. Oops! Suit's ruined; painter gives a goofy, not-very-sympathetic shrug.
Man pops a Mento. It doesn't matter what comes, fresh goes better in life . . .
Man rolls around on the wet paint. With Mentos fresh and full of life.
Painter looks astonished. Nothin' gets to you, stayin' fresh, stayin' cool . . .
Man has a white suit. With Mentos fresh and full of life!
Well, all I needed this morning were some Mentos. I had long put off taking my bike on the bus, as those racks in the front look complicated. I'm the type of guy who is mortified at the thought of holding everyone up while my dumb ass fumbles with a device any bus rider should be able to use. But I have watched enough people use it recently, now that Zoltan the Star-Car is kaput and I have been riding the bus to work, that my confidence was sufficient to try it. My heart pounded, nevertheless, as the bus neared. But it arrived, and the bike rack was already full! (Meaning, by the bye, that it already had two bikes in it. Awful.) The other guy who had been waiting at my stop gave me a glance and got aboard. Neither bike rider got off. I pointed at my bike and looked at the driver, wondering if perhaps I would be permitted to take it on with me since the rack was full. The driver just gave me a - you guessed it - not-very-sympathetic shrug.
I pedaled as fast as I could, going north on Burnet Road. It doesn't matter what comes, fresh goes better in life . . .
The bus passes me. Not wanting to be killed, I had to get off the street and go through parking lots (there are few good sidewalks along Burnet). With Mentos fresh and full of life.
A couple of stops ahead, I catch up. Still two bikes. I imagine everyone on the bus is looking at me with mild amusement and anticipation. Nothin' gets to you, stayin' fresh, stayin' cool . . .
I duck underneath a low sign and speed around a high parking lot-dividing curb to make it to the next stop, where a biker gets off. With Mentos fresh and full of life!
Next thing you know, I mount my bike flawlessly and am off to work. Fresh goes better, Mentos freshness, fresh goes better with Mentos . . .
Now, I'm sure I'm not the first person to catch up with a bus in this way. But it being my first time to take my bike along, I thought I did pretty well. Today, December 7th, 2007, I am indeed fresh and full of life!
The Turdlog reader will recall the ads. I think one went roughly this way: a man in a business suit, looking like he's about to go to a big-time important function, sits on a white bench just before the painter puts up the WET PAINT sign. Oops! Suit's ruined; painter gives a goofy, not-very-sympathetic shrug.
Man pops a Mento. It doesn't matter what comes, fresh goes better in life . . .
Man rolls around on the wet paint. With Mentos fresh and full of life.
Painter looks astonished. Nothin' gets to you, stayin' fresh, stayin' cool . . .
Man has a white suit. With Mentos fresh and full of life!
Well, all I needed this morning were some Mentos. I had long put off taking my bike on the bus, as those racks in the front look complicated. I'm the type of guy who is mortified at the thought of holding everyone up while my dumb ass fumbles with a device any bus rider should be able to use. But I have watched enough people use it recently, now that Zoltan the Star-Car is kaput and I have been riding the bus to work, that my confidence was sufficient to try it. My heart pounded, nevertheless, as the bus neared. But it arrived, and the bike rack was already full! (Meaning, by the bye, that it already had two bikes in it. Awful.) The other guy who had been waiting at my stop gave me a glance and got aboard. Neither bike rider got off. I pointed at my bike and looked at the driver, wondering if perhaps I would be permitted to take it on with me since the rack was full. The driver just gave me a - you guessed it - not-very-sympathetic shrug.
I pedaled as fast as I could, going north on Burnet Road. It doesn't matter what comes, fresh goes better in life . . .
The bus passes me. Not wanting to be killed, I had to get off the street and go through parking lots (there are few good sidewalks along Burnet). With Mentos fresh and full of life.
A couple of stops ahead, I catch up. Still two bikes. I imagine everyone on the bus is looking at me with mild amusement and anticipation. Nothin' gets to you, stayin' fresh, stayin' cool . . .
I duck underneath a low sign and speed around a high parking lot-dividing curb to make it to the next stop, where a biker gets off. With Mentos fresh and full of life!
Next thing you know, I mount my bike flawlessly and am off to work. Fresh goes better, Mentos freshness, fresh goes better with Mentos . . .
Now, I'm sure I'm not the first person to catch up with a bus in this way. But it being my first time to take my bike along, I thought I did pretty well. Today, December 7th, 2007, I am indeed fresh and full of life!
1 Comments:
Duder, that's awesome. -R
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