But I still need the tapes, so I hop in my car and ease on down the road to the mall. I get there without a major disaster, grab the tapes, and take them up to the counter where there is a cu-ute guy working. Hellooooo, nurse!
Cutie Clerk: Did you find everything you were looking for this evening?
Sep: Everything except true enlightenment, and I checked Sci-Fi so I guess you're all out.
Cutie Clerk: [Silence.]
Sep: I'm sorry. I know you don't want hear that. You want a banal answer that you can ignore.
Cutie Clerk: Actually, that's the most interesting thing I've heard all day. Got any more?
Sep: Ask me another pointless question.
Cutie Clerk: Will you be using your frequent shoppers' card today?
Sep: No. Because, you see, I am not a frequent shopper. I prefer to hoard my wealth into a big pile on which I roll around naked every night. It loses its allure when all you've got are three quarters and a nickel.
I completed my transaction. He did not ask for my number! I am perplexed. As Ace said, "But you're cute and you said the word 'naked' in front of him." But maybe he can tell that I'm the type of girl who yells at bums, so he instinctively knew to steer clear. Who knows?
So I get home and get all settled in to start, at long last, the recap. But then I can't find the VCR remote, which I haven't used once since I got TiVo. Which, by the way, has improved the quality of my life more than anything, ever. What to do? The recapping process requires a remote. Five out of five recappers agree. I spent six months trying to convince my insurance company that grafting a third arm onto my body for dedicated remote operation was an occupational necessity. Thinking quickly, I clomp downstairs and relieve a long wooden tomato stake from duty in the backyard. Back upstairs, I sit down and press play on the VCR with my really long stick and...there's this gross squishy sound, because I've managed to smash a tomato worm's icky green segmented body right between my "remote" and the play button. Right there, in that moment, I give up. I throw myself down on the bed and go to sleep. The next morning, Latch wakes me up by licking my face. I blearily look over to the scene of last night's carnage and see a couple of stray chewed-up tomato-worm bits. Eeeewwww. I hope you people appreciate what I go through for you.
I swear to the deity of your choice that every word of that was true. Now if anyone besides Sars is still reading this, I'm ready to start the recap. ["Sars went to bed hours ago. I'll finish up for her, but only if you talk about Latch some more." -- Hobey the cat]