So I’m minding my own business in my front yard picking up kids’ toys left behind. The kids in the neighborhood played in my yard because it was the only patch of real grass for blocks.
I’m holding a black plastic broken toy in my hand–when out of nowhere–this strange guy I’ve never laid eyes on before strides up to me.
Without any lead-in, he looks at the object in my hand and asks, “What is that? Is that a BOMB?”
WHAT?! A BOMB?!! THERE’S A BOMB?!! WHERE’S THE BOMB?!! CALL THE BOMB SQUAD!!
After I calm myself down from the initial shock of hearing the word bomb. I answered, “It’s a child’s broken walkie-talkie.”
Then he bends down to carefully examine the other part of the broken toy in the grass, like he’s CSI: Lawn and flashes me this:
While I’m trying to keep from upchucking my lunch, Agent Butt Crack is hot on the case. He inquires, “Why would anyone leave that here?”
As if finding a child’s discarded toy is a big mystery that requires lengthy analysis.
I responded that I didn’t know why. Then I realized I was being drawn in to yet another boring conversation with someone I didn’t know, and didn’t care to talk to. I turned and walked in my house.
Important Dating Tip: When approaching the ladies on the street, in a club, or at Starbucks, don’t use loaded words like bomb, kill, explosives, shoot, stab–words like that. It immediately sends us into scary panic mode, and all thoughts of romance and hot sex with you fly right out of our heads.
And for God’s sake, please don’t bend over and show us your bepimpled, hairy butt cheeks.