humor, Uncategorized

Boobie Coin Toss

First things first. If my mother says the word “boobie” one more time, I may get get sick.  Or send her to a loony bin. Either way, hearing my mom say that word? The way she says it?  …so uncomfortable. Straight up. It creeps me out. Hi mom. Anyway, now that I’ve got that off my chest- Punny- I ended up playing a weird game yesterday with a gentleman fellow. Wasn’t a planned game with rules or anything; But, if your’e going to throw money at me, why not, aim for my bra? Always wanted play a coin toss that ended in a D-cup full of quarters. Lifelong dreams. Over-achiever alert.

Boobie coin toss? Any time, Any place…
Boobie coin toss? Any time, Any place…

I’m sitting in the car and I’m suddenly being pelted by something. What the… I look down. What the hell… there’s a penny on my clavicle. I look around. Another flying coin. I think that one was a nickel. Hmmm… I look at my inside car-neighbor, seated next to me, and he’s just looking around. Pretending not to notice me, noticing him, noticing magical flying currency. Inside a Jeep Wrangler. Jeep Wrangler flying dough? Wow. Never thought I’d ever say those words in the same sentence…

So, at first, I giggle, and toss them back. And now we’ve got a full-on airborne monetary war. I up the ante and start tossing the little copper coins out of the vehicle. He doesn’t seem phased. Need a new plan. Screw this. Guys like to be generous until you express to them that you are “expecting” them to be generous. Light bulb idea! I’m starting to think the best way to get at a guy -when he’s playing the throwing of the money at you game- is to keep the damn money.  Boom. Mind blown. Winner. He stopped hiking the legal tender my way.

I know… cool ass piggy bank, right?

After the fun-filled afternoon, in a joy ride of soaring loot, I make my way home. Make dinner. Spend time with the family. Clean up. La-di-dah, just passing the next few hours before I hit the hay. I draw a bath and as I’m removing my unmentionables… a kazillion freaking fiscal elements dive from my chest to my bathroom floor. I look around and glance in the mirror, and I guess -even with the kazillion that jumped my big bra ship- there are about a handful more of wampum still stuck to my bosom.  Well… nothing left to do but unstick the little fiduciary coins and drop them in my piggy bank.

$8.77. Ha! Well, gee golly. I think I might play that game again…

 

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