Right, ok, it’s Valentine’s Day. Here’s How it’s Gonna Go Down…

I’ll head over to the library to pick up Grosse Point Blank. I’ll go in, see the movie, and, just as I reach for it, the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life will also be reaching for it. We’ll both politely draw our hands back and say “oh, you can have it.” Being the chivalrous gentleman that I am, I’ll insist that she take it. And, being the noble woman that she is, she’ll gracefully accept. Then–and, here’s the part where my pathetic scheme pays off–she’ll notice my Apex fleece, and say something like “Oh, wow, you go to Apex?” I’ll say yes and she’ll explain how she just moved to Dayton from Montana (her dad’s an engineer with the Air Force, you see) and she’s been coming to Apex for a few weeks and thinks it’s where God wants her to call home. There’ll be an akward pause, and then I’ll ask if she’d like to watch the movie together.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Normally that would sound like a stupid pick-up line from some jerk who’s just trying to take advantage of a beautiful, Godly woman; and, normally, she, of course, would refuse. But this isn’t normal. This is divinely appointed.

So, being the divine appointment that it is, she accepts. We hit it off instantly. She has the most amazing countenance: quiet and peaceful and full of joy (Yes, even more joy than Kristi Gleason!). We make jokes throughout the whole movie, and it’s feels like we’ve know each other our whole lives. Her personality fit perfectly with mine, and after two hours we both agree that we were meant to be together.

So, don’t be surprised if y’all get a wedding invitation in the mail next week.

Update, 6:40PM: Oh Lord, Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me?

You want to know what happened? Ok, here it is. I checked that stupid “eCatalog” before I left and it said that they had Grosse Point Blank in stock. But, just as I was heading out the door, a thought occured to me: “hey, this would make a good post to your blog” “huh, you’re right, good thinking.” So, I sit back down, login, and type out my beautiful plan. Then, after it’s spell-checked and reworded four or five times, I hit “publish” and I’m on my way.

So, I get there, and, after holding the door open for a pretty young lady who, I thought, just might have been my aforementioned future wife, I headed over to the movie section. Well, guess what. It wasn’t there. Nope. Someone had allready gotten it. And you know what? It was her. Yeah, the girl from my plan. I missed her, all because Bob conviced me to start this stupid blog. Instead of running into the girl of my dreams, I was at home, alone, at my computer, on the Internet. It’s all your fault Bob! This is the burning of a dream

Oh, and, ofcourse, it wouldn’t be Valentine’s Day if the world didn’t torture me just a little bit more… On the way home I noticed that I was almost out of gas. So, I pull into my friendly neighborhood Shell, and ofcourse, the only pump available is the one without Pay at the Pump. As if that weren’t enough, the magnanimous OPEC Cartel has decided that we, quite frankly, don’t pay enough for oil, so it cost me $18.38 to fill up my tank. Eighteen dollars and thirty-eight cents to fill up a four-dour sedan. Oh, and I owe the IRS $138, because, you know, they really haven’t taken enough out of my paychecks already. Perfect.

I’ve always known that God had a dark sense of humor, but this is a little much, even for Him.