Sometimes, when I have had a day full of people and their talking to me, I will cruise Fab.com to decompress and clear my head and it’s just so full of fun and random that I can’t help myself. Which is why I will occasionally send screen caps of things that I see on there with my own commentary to my friends over iMessage. No, I don’t know why they let me have their phone numbers either.
But then the other night, I found this little piece of awesome.
So I showed the guy pal and said, “I just found the most awesome floor mat in the history of floors. Like, seriously, if Caesar were alive today he’d be all, “WHY DON’T I HAVE THAT ON MY FLOORS?” and I’d be all, “Because Cleopatra didn’t really love you, man. Tough, but true. Also, BACK OFF, CAESAR, THAT GUY DIDN’T ACTUALLY COME WITH THE FLOOR MAT!”
Then he did that “polite” response thing that called it different and kinda creepy.
Which made me feel like he wasn’t really getting how awesome this was, which meant it was time to pull out my crazy great marketing skills.
If he were mine, I’d put thought bubbles over his head and change them out everyday. He’d say things like “Aaarrgh!” on Talk Like A Pirate Day, and “There isn’t always room for Jello.” or “Excuse me, buddy, but my eye sockets are up HERE.” People would be afraid of his creepy and stay out of my space, which makes him like a warning sign or a guard dog, only better because you don’t have to feed him or take him to the vet, so he’s actually saving you money. It’s practically irresponsible to not own him, and doesn’t fiscal responsibility matter to you at all?
I’ve named him Bartholomew and I feel like we were meant to be friends. Fated, even. He could live in my office. Well, you know, as the remains of the dead. Which wouldn’t be weird at all. I have a friend who has dead stuffed rodents in clothes that she keeps in her office. If anything, Bartholomew shows how normal I really am here.
Really, Bartholomew is just misunderstood. I mean, look how he’s always smiling! I think we all could use a little more Bartholomew in our lives. Except for maybe Grandma. Because, old. Possibly because starting another rumor about Jello at the home will get me in trouble. I’m not entirely sure that being banned from a nursing home is going to give me street cred.
Him: Mastercard or Visa?
Then later I admitted that I didn’t order Bartholomew and so I was sad because it’s hard letting go after breaking up with a floor mat you didn’t actually own.
And he told me I should get some rest, and that it’s always hard the first time, but by the time you break up with your second floor mat you never own, it’s much easier.
I’m just so lucky to have such great support in the minutes of heartbreak not buying a floor mat can bring.