Saturday, July 30, 2011

Anal-Ness 101

So yesterday I was in line at our local grocery store, and considering the little beach town I call home is a T intersection it's safe to say this little store is the hub of this little town. So I was waiting to pay for my $5 Greek Salad (Which, let's be honest, is just some chopped up cucumber, tomato, some kalamata olives and some feta cheese, but whateves, it's ORGANIC, okay?)  and the guy in from of me didn't have 2 cents (Insert obvious joke here.) so the cashier girl didn't want to give him 98 cents back so she just gave him a dollar.

Well lo and behold, my total was 7.38.  So I just gave her 7.40 and told her to keep the change so that way her drawer would be perfect.

I mean - I was doing that girl a solid, no?

And she says to me,"Wow, aren't we a little anal?"

My first thought was to reply, "Anal? Nah, I prefer missionary but maybe if I'm a little drunk first." (I'm totally kidding mom and dad!)

But sheesh......

 I "kinda" know this girl b/c I've seen her here and there but to call out a girl on her shit only because she was being helpful......

I shall take my anal-ness and helpful-ness powers else where then...
And clearly this girl has never been to my house.  Anal would be an understatement.

Then it got me to thinking as to when my "anal-ness" began.  (Why can't I type the word anal and not giggle.....I am such a 7th-grade boy trapped in this 31-year-old woman's body!) 

I remember back in the day in grade school when we would clean out our desks every other Friday.  This seemed silly to me as my desk was always perfectly organized with a pen and pencil neatly in the front divot, folders stacked on top of one another on the left hand side from littlest to biggest and then books on the other side according to subject and time of day needed. 

Why would anyone need to take time out of their day to clean? 

Oh the shit a little person can shove in here......

I usually just got to read my book or play with the classroom hamster, Oreo, during this time.  

I remember one day my teacher was so fed up with a student because she was taking too long to clean  that he just walked over to her desk and dumped that whole f-ing thing on the floor.

I, already being annoyed by this huge waste of time, balked at the shit that was in this girl's desk.  There was a pair of dirty socks, crumpled up papers, half-eaten bags of chips (we weren't even allowed to eat food in the classroom!) a solitary mitten, hair ties, and what-ever-have-you.

clean out cha business!!

It took all of me to not start clapping.  Seriously. Clapping and nodding in agreement with the desk dumping shenanigans. My little 7-year-old self snidely saying, "Yup. Yup. You kids see that. That is a real man right there. A real, clean man.  I mean, I don't blame him. That shoulda been done ages ago."

That poor girl was mortified and started crying but I smugly pretended to read my book all the while watching her clean up her filthy mess. (I now know I should have HELPED her since I WASN'T DOING ANYTHING ANYWAYS, YOU LITTLE ANAL-ASS-BRAT!!)

But I didn't and I felt satisfied in knowing I was never going to have my shit dumped out for all the world to see.  

Yeah, I think for sure that incident just cemented my anal tendencies.... ha ha..... anal tendencies.


  1. Every time I type "analysis" (which is often in business writing), I think, "This can't be right."

  2. The fact that you've posted that you have a 7th grade boy trapped inside your body has certainly come up on an FBI computer screen somewhere. Expect a knock on the door.