I want to have my ashes sprinkled on a Fry’s

I want to have my ashes sprinkled on a Fry’s

Clint has finally become brave enough to take me back to Fry’s.  Although I do think he was questioning the brilliance of the move when I started to giggle and clap my hands before we ever pulled into the parking lot.  I began to rapidly map out our path in the store.

“First let’s go check out the laptops and then the cameras and then… then… then we can go look at the MP3 players.  Do you think they have any good deals on hard-drives?  OHHHHHHH!  Can I get inside the washers and dryers again?  Can I?  CAN I?”

You could totally see his eyes glaze over.  As we walked into the store, I broke free of him and raced from aisle to aisle fondling, rubbing and licking the electronics.  I finally met back up with him as he was comparing earphones to buy for Brandon’s computer.

“Where have you been?”

“Oh, just rubbing my breasts on the plasma televisions.”

“Okay.  Did you find the pen you were looking for?”

“THE PENS!  I FORGOT about the pens!” As I raced to the aisle full of glorious pens! (And I only bought one.)

After being there for barely any time at all (though Clint says it was well over an hour), we had to leave.  He literally had to pry my fingers off of the shiny, clickalicious laptops to check out.

As we were leaving, he looked at me and said with complete exasperation, “WHEN did YOU become a GEEK?!”

The moral of the story:  Be careful what you wish for.  Your spouse just may go geek on you.


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