Unicorns and Candycorns...

On my trip to Monterey I made sure to visit the Wherehouse Music store I used to manage. Amazingly, two of my old buddies were there: Liz and Tommy. Liz took over the store after I transferred to Salinas, which was the store Tommy used to manage before he transferred back to Pacific Grove. Anyway, it was an awesome reunion! I have fond memories of singing karaoke with Liz at the Brittania Arms in downtown Monterey, and Tommy is a fellow Sci-fi and Fantasy writer.

After my trip down memory lane, my friends and I decided to hit the Mucky Duck for a few drinks, after which we took a late night promenade on the beach. Petra loves to take off her shoes and sink her bare feet in the cold sand. I, on the other hand, don't like going to the hospital to have beer bottle shards removed from the soles of my feet, so I kept my shoes on.

On the way, Daniel ran into a friend of his from school. Everyone introduced each other and then I noticed this one dude had a shirt that read: Real Men Love Unicorns. I snorted and proceeded to come up with the lamest joke imaginable. Unfortunately I am often the victim of my own stupid humor. Normal people, I believe, filter out stupid thoughts. I, on the other hand, spit them out my mouth the moment my brain generates them. Occasionally, I'll hit the target and everyone will just love the hell out of my joke. But more often than not, I fall flat on my face. And that's what happened this time.

So, one milliseconds after reading the shirt, I blurted: "I'd wear a t-shirt that read: 'Real Men Love Candycorns!" I swear there was a five second silence, in which I leaned forward with this stupid grin on my face and waited for the roar of applause. Needless to say, it never came. Petra or Daniel or someone rescued me by issuing a courtesy laugh, and everyone sort of ho-hummed into another conversation.