(Ke) Joe is cleaning out the office and keeps wanting to display everything he finds in boxes. Right now he's moping around because I didn't want to put Pepsi and 7up bottles full of seashells and sand from Mexico in the living room. I've never seen him so down. I had to remind him we don't live in a frat house.
(Kr) I feel bad for him. Can't you see how much those shells mean to him; boxed away for years, forgotten about? But simultaneously Joe always had a passion for displaying them. He just didn't know it until right now. You're smashing his dream he didn't know he had.
(Ke) That is exactly what I told him. Needless to say, the sand is now in our backyard and the bottles in the recycling . . . with his heart. Now he's singing John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt. That's a sign of full recovery.
(Kr) It could be a trick. He's crafty.
(Ke) Now he's looking through a box containing booklets and CDs telling him how to make millions in real estate. The plastic is still on everything. Didn't even crack it.
(Kr) Guess you won't be rich. Unless . . .
(Ke) It's already packed back up and in the closet.
No comments:
Post a Comment