Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Dreaming Of A Drive-By At The Drive-Thru

I just needed a cheeseburger.

I had just spent a few hours visiting with my bear friends, Rich and Dave, yacking and then watching "V For Vendetta" - a favorite movie of 2006 for me, on their wide screen, high definition, surround-sound system, home theatre style television. Dave was all excited about seeing it because, I think, he was expecting a gore-fest. As much as I tried to assure him this movie wasn't that, I think he was still disappointed after. He was out like a light and snoring until the bloody knife fight at the end, which he loved. Rich seemed to appreciate the political stance the movie makes. I put them through "Hedwig and the Angry Inch" last month, and I'm wondering how many more nights they are gonna let me suggest the movie. We'll see.

But, I had missed dinner earlier and it was now approaching 11pm and I was HUNGRY. I pulled into the closest burger joint open. Jack In The Box. I should have known better.

Although I was just going to grab a Sourdough Jack (I'm a sucker for crunchy breads), I noticed that the side of the store had a big poster for the "New Sirloin Burger!". That didn't sound like a bad idea. When I pulled up to the menu board, right above the speaker, in the middle of the menu was another big-ass picture of the "New Sirloin Burger!" I noted that the picture showed red onion, big dill pickle slices, cheese and bacon, and some text about the savory sauce that accompanies the sandwich, on a bun that, although not sourdough, looked like it could be crunchy. I'm a sucker for red onions to begin with, and I thought it might not be a bad idea to upgrade the beef patty, so I decided to give it a go.

The intercom speaker crackled.

"Hep you?"

"Yes, I'd like a Sirloin Burger and a medium Diet Coke, please.

There was a pregnant pause.

"Que?" The drive-thru guy spoke Spanish. Okay. I don't. I took a deep breath.

"A Sirloin Burger. I'd like to try one. And a medium Diet Coke."


"Are you kidding me?"


"Sir-loin Bur-ger!" I thought breaking it down into syllables might help. I also said it loudly, in the event he was deaf.

"No no no..." was the response from the little box.

"What?" Okay, I was mad now.


"Oh, for Christsakes, I want a SIRLOIN BURGER!"


Well, it was a start.

"Yes! A Sirloin Burger with cheese and a Diet Coke!"


"Yes, sure. Okay!"

The little screen where you can verify what you have just ordered announced that he was ringing up a junior bacon cheeseburger.

"No!" I bellowed. "Not a Junior Bacon Cheeseburger. A Sirloin Burger!"

"Que?" This was a different voice now. Two Spanish-only speaking Mexicans and a fat, angry white boy. This is as ugly as it gets.

"You have GOT to be KIDDING me!!!" I could hear my pulse in my ears, my blood pressure was spiking.

"Drive up." Two words of English finally strung together to make a sentence I understood. Thank FUCKING God!

When I pulled around the corner of the building in my truck and approached the window, I could see two young, Hispanic guys standing at the register. Both of them were wearing the same, identical t-shirt, as a part of their uniform, that read:

Try Our New Sirloin Burger!

Seriously. I thought I was gonna stroke out. One of them opened the window and said:


I pointed to his shirt. I couldn't talk.

"Oh, ok! Fries?"

I shook my head.


I shook my head. I just wanted out of this situation.

"Gracias!" The guy said, all smiles, when he brought me the sandwich.

I left with a burger and a migraine.

By the way, the burger tasted like dogfood topped with red onion on crunchy bread.

Happy Halloween!

I lifted this from the amazing Dop at his blogsite. Couldn't resist.

And here's a little "Trick Or Treat" from the past:

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Sunday Mop Up 10/29/06

It's a BEAUTIFUL Sunday here in Texas. The sun is shining brightly and, thanks to the cool front that passed through a few days ago, the humidity is almost non-existent. A lovely breeze is blowing from the North and I am in love with the world.

I'm hip-deep in domestic chores while all the windows to my townhouse are open and I have a load of whites working in the laundry room, so the whole downstairs has that Clorox scent going on. Although I'm still unshowered (cuz housework just gets me all sweaty anyways), I have a fresh pot of coffee made and I am savoring a huge mug of it now. A load of dishes are being dealt with in the dishwasher, and before all is said and done, the trash will be wrangled, a week's worth of shirts will be ironed, and I'm thinking the vacuum will make a cameo appearance. It is, after all, a cleaning lady week this week.

Man, I love my Sundays.

Daylight Savings Time

Maybe I'm extra chipper because we got an extra hour to burn as we saw fit last night. I had intended to sop that gravy up in deep slumber, because I LOVES me some sleep. Seriously. Sure, I can get by on 8 hours like the rest of humanity, but I'm most happy with a solid 10 hours under my belt. I know, I know, it's awful to waste time like that. However, last night, I ended up out on the town carousing, socializing, and being amongst "family", all without getting sucked into anything resembling a Halloween party anywhere. Yay! When my head hit the pillow at 4am, I smiled at the thought that it was really only 3am, and burrowed myself into my blankets and pillows and was out like a light until 11am this morning. That's not 10 hours, but it'll do!

Gaining the hour in October sure beats the shit out of losing that hour in April. Or is it March? Don't know, don't care at this point.

Thanksgiving Plans

I managed to commit myself to spending my favorite holiday of the entire year with my Dad in Florida this year. I hadn't really intended for this to happen, but I got an email from him a few weeks ago announcing that he and his wife wanted to come out for a visit before the end of this month. I am in no way prepared to host a visit with those two on such short notice.

[Don't get me wrong, I ADORE them. My father is, quite simply, the coolest motherfucker God ever put together. In my youth, he was a strict disciplinarian, task master, and absentee father and husband -thanks to the Air Force. Nowadays, he is making up for it by having turned into this warm, open, sensitive man whose patience and generosity seem to know no bounds. He divorced my mother nearly twenty years ago as an uptight, emotionally repressed individual who saw the world in stark black and white. He has mellowed and aged beautifully, like a fine single malt scotch, and I even feel a bit drunk when in his presence.

My therapist was quick to point out that my Dad is trying to make up for lost time, and is motivated by guilt about not being involved with his family as a younger man. My therapist was also quick to point out that his children have all placed the man on a pedestal due to abandonment issues. I've had to wonder if this abandonment issue has come into play with my interest in mature, older men. Am I trying to heal some rift I've felt with my own father?]

See, you need to be prepared for a visit from Dad. At 74 (I think), the man is a ball of fury and productivity, which he vents in home improvement projects. His wonderful wife is the same way. They'll tag-team you, I swear. The last time they stayed with me, the entire downstairs of my townhouse got repainted (that includes 16 foot ceilings in the livingroom, a huge kitchen, downstairs half-bath, the laundryroom, AND the stairway - baseboards and all trim as well, people!), old, nasty ceiling fans were removed, and light fixtures updated in the entryway, kitchen, stairwell, and upstairs hallway. They bought me new tools and kitchen accessories as well. They were here FOUR days.

I needed more than two weeks to prepare for another Home Depot Orgy. So, in an attempt to turn down the offer for a visit, I suggested that I might look into seeing IF I could get out there to them for Thanksgiving.

Well, 24 hours didn't pass before I started hearing from the rest of my family how thrilled Dad is that I am coming for Thanksgiving. It's a done deal, folks. My sisters have all reported in on the the plans. He's developing the intinerary as we speak. He'll make this a big deal, you can count on it. I get treated like a king. It's embarrassing. You know, I can't help but smile and get a "warm-fuzzy" knowing that my family loves each other as much as we do. That my Dad is that excited about me coming for a visit makes my heart sing, and my eyes roll at the same time.

There was a time in my life when I couldn't get far enough away from my family. Man, I'm SO over that. Okay, I'll admit it, I'm pretty danged excited, too.

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Lack Of Vocabulary Or Tourette's Syndrome?

It has been pointed out to me that I'm pretty free and easy with the salty language around here. In fact, I've been accused of laziness in my writing for so quickly reverting to swearing instead of attempting to convey an idea with a more judicious choice of less-offensive descriptive words. Fuck that!

Well, maybe I should try to explain why I choose to write the way that I do, using the language that I do. Okay? Bear with me, then. Here we go:

The Rationalization

First of all, I'm not a very good writer. I lack the discipline and the brain power needed to write in an articulate, cohesive manner. I took one of those personality tests at one point in my life, and I'm a Feeler, not a Thinker. I use the language that I do here to communicate my emotions, rather than my thoughts. Because, let's face it, my thoughts tend to be half-assed incomplete. If I can share with you how I am feeling on any given day, I'm much more satisfied than whether I am concise and thorough in following any particular train of thought. Coarse language allows me to express anger, surprise, sexuality, vulgarity, and happiness with an easy-to-understand and direct emphasis.

Secondly, I am striving to write in a conversational tone here. I want what you read to sound to you like I'm speaking to you like friends on the phone, or over a cup of coffee. This is for two reasons - a) I'm a people pleaser and it's terribly important to me that you like me and want to be my friend, and b) I'm hopeful that, if you're heterosexual and uncomfortable with homosexuals, you might have found a gay perspective that makes you laugh enough that you can let your guard down a bit and maybe relate, in some way. Which leads to my third point...

The Third Point: cuss words are funny. Well, sometimes. If you don't go overboard. I know. I go overboard occasionally. But, HEY, this is tame compared to the rantings and ravings of SOME bloggers out here (not that I'm pointing fingers, I just sayin' is all- I love you, Laurie!).

Also, I'd like to mention that I consider myself a Spiritual kinda person. I've never felt more connected and tuned in to my relationship with God in my whole life. I happen to know that my Higher Power has spoken to me in some pretty crude ways.

"No shit kidding!" sayeth God.

Finally, I write this way because this is who I am and how I talk. Sure, I don't drop the f-bomb at work like I do here, but I also don't fart in my cubicle do other socially unacceptable things in a formal environment that I would do here.

Aren't you suddenly glad that blogs aren't smellable?

So, if my choice of verbage has offended you here, I'm truly sorry. I doubt that I can change, or that I want to.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Snack Time At The Office

Good grief, there's just no excuse, I should know better!

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Are You Watching Yet?

Because you are, like, SO fucking up if you aren't! Monday nights, 9pm EST - 8pm CST on NBC.

Monday, October 23, 2006

Let's Talk About Oral Hygiene

Okay, I admit, I'm a freak about it. I don't care how hot and sexy you think you are, if your teeth have crud, I'm not getting in your face. Teeth, breath, lips, and tongue are a major thing in my world. Good oral hygiene is an absolute must. I can't help it. If I were ever kissed by someone with a pierced tongue, I'm fairly certain I would throw up in their mouth. It's just a guess, but let's not find out, okay?

So like, for years, I've known about the new generation of electric toothbrushes. You know, the Sonicare and Oral B brushes. My ex had the Sonicare when we were together. It did an adequate job, I suppose. I had even tried it. But I had convinced myself that nothing automatic can replace good old elbow-grease. When I brush my teeth, I want to exert pressure and scrub those fuckers. I make a mess, I really do. I brush in the shower so that all the toothpaste shrapnel doesn't end up all over the mirror, the plumbing, the floor, etc. I was a dedicated manual brusher.

"Foo!" on those new-fangled contraptions, said I.

Maybe I should mention that it didn't help that those electric things cost around seventy bucks, american. Oh, hell no! Give me a three dollar jobbie and a tube of Crest and back the fuck up, cuz I've got some brushing to get to!

Well, shut me up! Oral B, by Braun, is now making a CHEAPER version of their expensive model. Twenty bucks. Saw one at my local groery store. Has the head that not ONLY spins around and around, but part of it saws back and forth at the same time. I approve of the work ethic there. It's called the "Vitality", and I'm telling you folks, this baby ROCKS! I called my dentist to speak with my hygienist to get her opinion. She heartily endorses the product! She says she sees no difference between the results she has seen from the expensive model compared to the Vitality, and this woman looks in A LOT of mouths! I've been working the hell out of mine for over a week now, and it is really holding up to my rigorous use. If you don't have one, or have been holding out because of the price of the things: wait no longer. Everyone should own one of these bad boys.

And, by the way, if Braun ever came out with an Anal B, I'd be the first in line.

-Thank you for shopping at jimmycity!

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Sunday Mop Up 10/22/06

Hi. Jim here. How are ya? Hope you are well. Me? Balls to the wall. Here's a little run-down of things I've been thinking about this week, but didn't have the time (or energy) to post:

Gas Prices

I got really excited this week when I found gas at $1.99 a gallon. Seriously excited. I mean, remember that SNL commercial about the luxury car that you could, you know, hump? Well, fortunately, I wasn't tall enough to make that work cuz, you know, the gas tank hole-thingy is pretty high up the side of the truck. But still, I was pretty turned on. Two dollar a gallon gas is significant in my world. Earlier this year, when gas hovered around 3 dollars a gallon, it cost me a little over 65 bucks to fill my tank. I do this at least three times a month. At 2 dollars, it costs me just a smidge over 45 bucks to fill up. Saving twenty bucks a fill up saves me 60 bucks a month. That, my friends, is cabbage not to be scoffed at. That is leafy green that can be used in other meaningful ways.

But, after the initial giddy goofiness passed, I started asking myself some questions. Like: How can gas prices fall by an entire third and it not devastate the oil industry? Why aren't we hearing about oil companies worried about lay offs and economic disaster? How can an industry survive when it's product's price has been slashed by 33%? Could this be proof that gas prices have been artifically high? That we, as consumers, have been milked and suckered and fucking robbed? And, why are prices NOW dropping? Has demand dropped that significantly? Did gas prices fall like this last year? Am I reacting like a Conspiracy Freak when I am suspect of the timing of this trend right before a major election?

Look, as long as our government remains controlled by Republicans, Big Business can do whatever the fuck they want. Conservatives treat Capitalism like a religion, which makes Corporate America the clergy. "De-regulation" is one of the Ten Commandments. "Market Forces" is the new "Holy Spirit".The problem with that is that it has all become corrupted. I believe that the oil industry has a vested interest in keeping Republicans in control of the country. So, they are backing off of their rape and pillage business model until after the elections.
A vote against the Republicans this election is, really, a vote opposing the gluttony, greed, and arrogance of Wall Street and the Board Room.

There is more to America than the Almighty Dollar. Government has a duty to watch, protect, and serve.

Are you being served, or patronized and toyed with?

Please vote in November.


Dear Straight Guys,

Don't be afraid of us. No need to hate us, either. Accepting that there are people out in the world that like to do things sexually that you wouldn't do in a million years does not make YOU gay. Frankly, some of the shit that you are into makes some of us scratch our heads as well. It's all good. Do you obsess all day long about what kind of sex your other straight friends are having with their wives? Of course not. Then, quit obsessing on what gay consenting adults do with and to each other. You know, if sucking cock is so shameful, tell your girlfriend/wife/mother/sister to knock it off as well, okay?

And, for that matter, get OVER the idea that some gay guy is looking at you and thinks you're hot. Cuz, you're probably not, and that's probably not what the gay guy is thinking. But if he is thinking that and he does look at you like that?... it's a compliment, you fucktard! Chances are, you pull the same shit on women at your office all day long. How does it feel to be sexually objectified? That's right, you can be sextoy eyecandy and there's not a damned thing you can do about it. Deal with it. If one of us gropes, fondles, or caresses you, feel free to go ballistic. Kick the ass of ANYone who makes unwanted physical advances on you, and doesn't take "no", or "no way", or "back off!" as an answer. But, until then, shut the fuck up.

Late Edition Addition: Thanks, by the way, for inseminating women and keeping the planet populated. Mad props for that!


It's a shame that my favorite month of the year is host to the holiday I dislike the most. Halloween was ruined for me when I was a bouncer in my 20's (that was in the 80's, folks) in several straight bars that featured live bands .Yes, Halloween is a drunken clusterfuck of idiots who feel it is their God-given right to drink and drive, drink and hit on women they don't stand a chance with, drink and fight, and drink and puke in public.

One thing that made Halloween worse than any other drunk, stupid amateur-drinking holiday (say, for example, New Year's Eve) is the costumes. The lack of imagination in this area by the general public is truly horrifying to many a card carrying fag. Watch closely this year: count how many pathetic Captain Jack Sparrows you see. Then, mock them to their faces. Please. Also, keep an eye out for the dork who is dressed up as a feminine sanitary napkin or tampon. That fucker is NOT to be trusted. By anyone.

I also think Halloween is the night that men who long to dress in women's clothing are given a free pass. You aren't called a "tranvestite" on Halloween, and there are LOTS of guys, gay and straight, who have figured that out.

But, costume selection aside, the most dangerous aspect of Halloween to a bouncer is the acoutrement, or props, that accompany the costumes. I have seen light sabers, feather boas, and turkey legs all become WMDs in the hands of drunk morons.

And yet, beyond that, the real reason I have no patience with Halloween is because I feel this is a CHILDREN'S holiday. This is a holiday that we adults have robbed kids of and co-opted for ourselves. Magic and horror and fantasy and tricks and treats: this is a holiday to celebrate youthful naivete, imagination, pranksterism, and chaos. - THEIR chaos, not OURS. Our chaos fills up the calendar all year long. This is a holiday about kids eating sugar until they get sick, not you drinking until you blow chunks.

Now, don't get me wrong, I have no objection to costume parties. I have no objection to adults imbibing in alcoholic beverages. Trust me, most weekends in most gay bars in most metropolitan cities are Halloween anyway. I've seen Itchy do Scratchy in a dark corner of a club, witnessed Hagrid molest Gollum (and no costumes were involved - not for the faint of heart!). No big deal. Just not my cup o' tea, thanks. I'd rather be around a bunch of little kids, eyes wide at the prospect of roaming door to door in the neighborhood, collecting a stash of candy that, if planned carefully, could last until Thanksgiving!

If you are going out to the bars this year, please be careful. And, give the bouncer a break, huh?

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Catching Up After Taking Time Off

I always end up regretting taking a little vacation, because when I get back to work, the shit is just STACKED UP on me. I'm up to my ass in playing "catch-up" right now. Stressed out, baby!

And, because The Universe is taking care of me,
Post Secret shared this:

Be sure and check out "Manic Mode" and get a fresh sheet!

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Sunday Mop Up 10/15/06

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

. I'm back from my weekend and, no, I don't want to talk about it.


Wednesday, October 11, 2006

The Texas State Fair

I've lived in this state since 1979. Not once in that time have I made the pilgramage to Dallas for the Texas State Fair. I'd say it's about time, wouldn't you?

I leave Friday morning and won't be back until late Sunday night. I'm traveling up with some friends and we're staying with other friends. I'm excited.

Maybe I'll accrue a few stories during this little adventure.

Stories I can tell.

Without incrimminatin' myself or others.

I make no promises.

See ya next week!

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Let's Be Clear About This

Mark Foley, Congressional Jack-Off

This isn't about being a closeted homosexual. This is about being a hypocrite, a pederast, and a sleaze. This scandal would have been every bit as damning if he had been caught having cybersex with a female, but I wonder if it would have generated as much attention? I am fed up with the whole "Oh! He's a homo!" slant that everyone wants to focus on. Fuck that. He's a SEXUAL PREDATOR who deserves no sympathy or support.

And, by the way, they are EVERYWHERE. Hell, our culture grows them by the bushel basket. We sexualize our kids. We worship Youth. The younger, the better. I'm suspicious that this scandal is being touted merely for political benefit. You don't think the Democratic party is chock full of dirty old men as well? C'mon!

This isn't a Republican vs. Democrat issue. This scandal isn't merely a Power Elite vs. Public Servant issue. It goes WAY beyond that. This dirty little secret has been ignored and excused for too long and it permeates society. Grown trolls, regardless of their sexual orientation, preying upon the young and impressionable, using their power for sexual gains: it makes me sick.

This isn't a "gay" issue. This is everyone's issue.

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Sunday Mop Up 10/08/06


I’ve lived the past week on cash, since my debit card was lost along with my wallet and checkbook last weekend. This proved to be a bigger pain in the ass than I had suspected. Keeping cash on my person wasn’t the real issue. What I hated was, when I paid for things in cash, people were handing CHANGE back to me. I forgot how annoying it is to walk around with a pocketful of coins. I’ve "jingled" as I’ve walked all week. Grrr! Then, each night, I’ve had to unload 5 pounds of this metal out of my pants pockets. Grrr! And I know damned well that most of it is going to end up in the bottom of my washing machine, or clang around in my dryer when I do laundry. By the way: do we really need pennies anymore?

When they first came out, I was highly suspicious of debit cards. In fact, I refused to use one for years. Now, I can not fucking WAIT to get my replacement card. Lugging real money around sucks.


Bought a new cd this week "Boys and Girls in America" by The Hold Steady. Imagine Bruce Springsteen from back in his "Greetings from Asbury Park" days being backed by Counting Crows with Angus Young from AC/DC sitting in. Kinda-sorta. (shrug!)

The singer doesn’t "sing" so much as ramble in a three or four note range, but his lyrics are amazingly powerful. His backing band is just brilliant. The guitarist and keyboard player alternately complement each other and compete to outshine each other. The arrangements for each song are intricate, lush, and almost epic in their construction. And, yet, it totally rocks! By no means a "sing along" kind of experience, this is music that you keep very still while listening to, because there is so much to take in. Nice to hear a fresh rock and roll record again.

If you are interested, you can check them out at this site and hear the whole album.


She phoned to tell me that she has a cat now. My mom, the Great Dane aficionado, has switched to Siamese cats. Ookay… She found this cat at The Humane Society. I love it when people rescue animals. I’m proud of her. This is a woman who, numerous times in her life, has spent hundreds and hundreds and HUNDREDS AND HUNDREDS of dollars on a single pedigreed puppy.

She called this week and spent half of our conversation TALKING TO THE CAT (remind me to tell you sometime about how I feel about people who talk "baby talk" to their pets). She’s been feeling lonely and admittedly depressed, so I am pleased she has a new companion. That cat is gonna have an interesting life.

My Blog

BlogAmp has announced that they are going to start charging for their service starting October 15th. So, don't be surprised if "jimmy's jukebox" just up and vanishes one of these days in the very near future.

I’ve added a little slide-show thang up in the right hand corner of the page. As new pics of me surface, I’ll add them there. This is a big deal to me, because I am WAY camera shy and hate having my picture taken. But, in a continuing effort to love and accept myself for who I am, I shall step out of my "comfort zone" and display my mug for anyone who happens by to see. Hoo-rah? Yikes!

Saturday, October 07, 2006

Shame On Me!

Okay, blame this on me being a lazy slug who is avoiding actually WRITING something this week, but I had such a giggle with Violated By Bears Man (see below), that I checked out the website of the guys who produced it. And I found this little gem.

Yes, I promised a while back to stop slapping YouTube videos up on my blog as a cheap diversion to hide the fact that writing is hard work and I'm way over my head trying to keep this blog-thang up on its feet. Sorry.

Tomorrow is Sunday and I'll find something sticky and viscous to mop up for you then. Meanwhile: Enjoy!

Tech Support

Friday, October 06, 2006

Meet "Violated By Bears Man"!

Thanks to the HUGELY popular Joe.My.God for pointing this out to his readers.

I've gotta get me one of those t-shirts!

Thursday, October 05, 2006

My Secret Name

Okay. I went to http://www.wordsmith.org/anagram/, where there is an anagram program and I typed in my name.

Folks, I kid you not, I am:

Rim Jedi

If they ever make a sci-fi gay porn Star Wars,
and need a big, hairy guy,
-I'm kinda "Wookie"-
I'm SET!

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

At Least I'm Not Big Bird!

You Are Cookie Monster

Misunderstood as a primal monster, you're a true hedonist with a huge sweet tooth.

You are usually feeling: Hungry. Cookies are preferred, but you'll eat anything if cookies aren't around.

You are famous for: Your slightly crazy eyes and unusual way of speaking

How you live your life: In the moment. "Me want COOKIE!"

Sunday, October 01, 2006

Sunday Mop Up 10/01/06

I wonder what my horoscope says about this?

Okay, last week it was my glasses, which I found. This weekend The Unthinkable happened. I lost my wallet.

Now, by "wallet", I mean my checkbook. Yes, I'm one of those morons who runs around with my checkbook in my backpocket. I use my checkbook as my wallet. All my credit cards and personal ids are in it.

It's not like I write checks anymore. Hell, my debit card has replaced my need for checks. Mostly. I had to write a check to the plumber who unclogged my hot water line in the shower a week ago and just yesterday, I wrote a check for a pizza for lunch. Later that day, I was buzzing around town shopping and running errands. Stopped at a convenience store for a bottle of water and a roll of Tums (the "Sicilian Meat Lovers" pizza from Papa John's was chewing a hole in my gut). I paid with my debit card, then used the restroom, since I was there and all. A half hour later at another store, I reached for my checkbook. Not in my back pocket.

I ran to the truck and scoured it, not there. I remembered the trip to the men's room and called the convenience store. The Iranian dude looked while I was on the line, and it wasn't there. He said more than a handful of people had used the restroom since I was just there. I drove like a madman back to the store, checked the parking lot where I had parked, looked in the restroom myself, and then began looking through the trash barrels in the parking lot. And the dumpster, thank you very much. I've been face to face with WAY to much garbage in the past week.

Heavy sigh. I knew what I needed to do.

I started with my bank. They cancelled the debit card. They asked what the check numbers of the UNUSED checks were that were in the checkbook. Huh? Are you kidding me? I didn't fucking know that! I did know that I had written a check earlier in the day for the pizza that was trying to eat its way out of my abdomen at that very minute. I called Papa John's to get that check number. Any number after that would be a check number to put a "stop" on, right? My check had been put into a deposit bag and I would have to wait until the store closed for the manager to take the time to go through that bag and find my check. Cuz afterall it was, like, 9pm on a Saturday night, and they were up to their asses making PIZZAS right then. Fair enough. I told the manager that I'd call back after midnight to get that information.

Then it was the credit cards. Kids, I have a slew of credit cards, and every one of those puppies was kept in my checkbook. Cards I haven't used in YEARS. Sonuvabitch! I promised myself that from this point forward, I will only carry a regular billfold and only have the bare minimum of shit in it. I had to call 6 different credit card companies and wade through Phone Tree Hell with every fucking one. AND explain my retarded Tale Of Woe AND verify my identity by answering a shitload of questions. By the way, am I a bad son for not knowing the year in which my father was born? AND, by the way, how does CitiBank know that, if I never did? AND, by the way, how much other shit do they know about me that I never told them???

It took all night. I was talking to Pakistani Customer Out-Sourced Service until way past 1 am. By comparing the number on the pizza check to the number to the first number on my next book of blanks, I was able to give my bank the numbers of the blank checks in the checkbook. I've gotten everything squared away, for now, except one credit card. It'll be just my luck that whoever picked my wallet up, runs off to Rooms To Go and charges up $7,500 dollars worth of livingroom and bedroom furniture. But, that card's customer service department is closed until Monday morning, and I'm just gonna have to wait to close the card until then. Then, I start the process of replacing my driver's license, heath insurance card, voter registration card, and YMCA badge.

I lost some car wash coupons, a Buy 10 And Get One Free card from a sandwich shop (no biggie, I was only up to my third sandwich), my eyeglass prescription, my next dental appointment reminder, my sushi discount card, my tanning bed membership, and the phone number of this really hot guy I met at the leather bar one night a year ago that I never summoned the balls to call.

Now, I've got a twenty dollar bill, a half of a tank of gas, the other half of that abomination of a pizza, and a half a roll of Tums to get me through until I can get to the bank Monday morning. That's do-able.

Moral of the story: Travel light, Jim. And, avoid public restrooms at all costs.