Brad Brown

The Post Office
I had to drop off some Bookmooch packages at the customer counter of the post office. To save time, I usually walk up to the counter and immediately say “I’d like to send these books via media mail. These packages contain no liquids, bombs, scissors or other threatening devices.” Otherwise, you’ll go through twenty questions while the postal employee determines whether your package will explode in transit [“We have to stop the terrorism over here, before it gets over there.”]. I tend to wrap my books thoroughly to the point of overkill, because I’d hate having them damaged in transit. As a result, one of my envelopes was a bit lumpy. The little Vietnamese worker picked up the package, patted it suspiciously, and said “What’s this?” “A book,” I replied. “Are you sure?” she said. “We can open if you’d like. Then you can be sure.” I replied. She squinted her eyes at me and said “I think this is first class mail.” Interpretation: “Dude, you’re trying to ship a non-book as a book to save money. It is my job to stop you. It’s what I do!”
 
“Whatever…” I said. I don’t usually like to use the word “whatever” - it makes me sound like Alicia Silverstone in “Clueless.” Luckily, the Darth Vader woman sensed my irritation, backed down, and marked the package as media mail. I suspect she’s sitting at home now, watching American Idol and thinking to herself “I should have opened his package…how can I be sure he’s not Al-Qaeda?”
 
Cubano
Never buy a Cuban samich ™ from a middle-aged white guy who speaks perfect English. It seems that the strip malls in my neighborhood are filling up with exotic restaurants - Cuban samich places, taquito places, and New York pizzerias. I think those places give us suburban types the feeling that we’re adventurous without the need to get too far from our Land Rovers [the soccer mom car of choice in this area]. The problem is that the food is prepared by people native to our country, and as a result, the food is bland to match the people. My Cuban sandwich tasted like turkey on Melba toast. I’ve sworn off ethnic food prepared by people of my own ethnicity [pasty white guys] - from now on, if I want authentic, I’m going to Little Mexico, Little Cuba, or Midtown.
 
The Dentist
Dr. Lemons, having finished with my filling, got up and walked out of the room. Immediately, the hygienist put her index finger to her mouth in a “shushing” motion, pulled out a yellow card, wrote something on it, and handed it to me. It was a business card - on the back were the words “Call me: 480-505-8899 - ???” My mouth was numb, so all I could do was nod my head yes [for some reason, “no” wasn’t working that day]. I put the card in my pocket just as Dr. Lemons returned. When I got home, I examined the card further. The front was a normal business card, except that instead of a normal business, it indicated she was a horse trainer. I was dating someone at the time, so I threw the card away. The next day, I mentioned it to my girlfriend, who said enthusiastically “You should call her!” “Why would I call her if I’m dating you?”…then the light slowly dawned on me, and she broke up with me ten minutes later. Rule #1: Always keep the card, and then mention it to your girlfriend; that way, if she breaks up with you, you’re back in action! I never saw that hygienist there again, but I often wonder what life on the horse farm would have been like.
 
Arby’s
“I’d like a roast beef samich ™,” says BradBrown.com. “We’re all out of roast beef,” says pimply kid. “Then why are you even open?” replies Brad Brown, backing slowly away from the counter.
 
Bird Watcher Supply
No, I’m not making that store name up. It’s a local chain that caters to the bird enthusiast. I walked in for my usual “Special Feeder” mixture - a special blend of seeds and nuts guaranteed to attract exotic birds. When paying at the register, I noticed that the price had increased by 33.334 percent. I axed the cashier “Hey wha happened?” - big mistake. It turns out that last year, Frito Lay decided to fry all their nutritious snacks in sunflower oil, so they bought up all the excess seed. Simultaneously, there was growing interest in using sunflower oil as an alternative fuel to power America’s Land Rovers. As a result, the demand for sunflower seeds skyrocketed, driving the price of bird seed through the roof. My three-sentence explanation here is just a summary of what she told me. I attempted to walk away from the cashier twice, but was drawn back by the lure of more information about the sunflower seed shortage. Eventually, with fifteen minutes of my life sucked away, I grabbed my bag of birdseed and left. On the bright side, I’m now the owner of a hundred-acre sunflower farm in Montana.
 
Kroger
I walked out to my car to find a business card on my windshield. It read “You have a very hot body. If you would like a {phrase meaning “act of giving oral pleasure to”}, call me at 610-560-1620.” This was actually a pre-printed card - not handwritten. That fact, plus the fact that I am quite out of shape (not hot), and the fact that there was a guy staring lovingly at me as I went into the store were all good reasons not to call. However, it does make you wonder how many do call.
 
Erawan (Thai cuisine)
Erawan is located in a little strip mall. The strip mall also features Ocean Sauna (”where the fifth happy finish is on us!”), a liquor store, and an Insurrection porn shop [crack pipes and hookahs are located upstairs; blow-up dolls, rubber butts, and videos are located downstairs]. When eating at Erawan, I enjoy playing a game called “liquor, porn, or massage” or LPM ™ for short. The game LPM works like this: as each person gets out of their car, members of the dinner party guess which store the driver is headed into. The player at the end of the evening with the most points wins a bottle of green apple vodka from the liquor store. Here are the stereotypes I’ve found that work best:

• White, lawyer-type, in BMW - Ocean Sauna.
• White, balding, with hefty moustache - liquor store.
• Hot stripper chicks, or young teenage guys - Insurrection.

Conclusion?
To be honest with you, I wouldn’t change a thing about where I live. How about you?

 

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