Amazingly enough, one of the things this man did not do last weekend was get engaged. This is what he did instead.
A friend of mine came into work on Monday morning and announced that she had gotten engaged to her longtime boyfriend over the weekend.
Here are 10 things that I did last weekend.
I concentrated on not going to the bathroom because I was out of toilet paper.
That lasted seven hours before I was forced to go to Walgreens. The cashier remembered me from my previous visits and in front of a large line of people asked, “What, no ice cream this time?”
Then she waited for me while I went back and got some.
I returned home from Walgreens and pulled open my refrigerator, only to have it tip over on me because there was nothing inside.
I put some old novels in the freezer and crisper drawers to weigh it down.
One of the novels was Fyodor Dostoevsky’s, The Idiot.
I found the switch to my garbage disposal.
I never knew I had a garbage disposal, so it scared the shit out of me.
I spoke with a drunken man named Derrick outside of a decrepit bar in the Northern Liberties section of Philadelphia.
Derrick was 70 years old and wearing a crumpled white tuxedo complete with tails. When I asked him why he was dressed so elegantly he responded, “I’m dying of prostate cancer. The doctor said I’ve got three months to live, so what the hell else should I be wearing?”
Derrick is awesome.
I wore a tie out to dinner because I was missing a button on the shirt, and then wore a vest over the tie because the tie had a stain.
I may need to go shopping.
I ordered pork fried rice but couldn’t remember which was bigger—a pint, or a quart.
It turns out a quart is bigger.
And I ate all of it.
I took an envelope that had been sitting in the lobby of my apartment building for about three weeks.
I had waited a sufficient period for someone to claim it and since the address had been handwritten I assumed it was personal, meaning potentially interesting or scandalous or filled with birthday money. It turned out to be a thank-you card for a wedding gift. A toaster. It was boring, so I threw it out.
The next morning someone rang the buzzer to my apartment, and I hid in the dark for 20 minutes.
I tried to clean my bathtub.
When I looked underneath my sink I discovered that I had two bottles left over from the previous tenant—a jug of bleach, and something with blue liquid in it. I decided to pour them both into the tub at once.
That was not a good decision.
I fell out of bed.
I don’t remember the first time because I woke up on the floor, but I distinctly remember the second time because as I was falling I groaned, “Not again.”
The tenth thing I did this past weekend was not get engaged.
Image of young couple in love courtesy of Shutterstock