Scrambled Eggs and Chocobos

This has been the strangest day.

Normally, I wouldn't waste the time regaling the hollow Internet with a play-by-play of my entire day, but this is going to be an exception. Today was, I should venture to say, on par with any great mockumetary anywhere.

We begin:

I awaken early from a dream involving scrambled eggs and Chocobos. I check my email to find a message ironically regarding Final Fantasy music. Thus the wheels of strange begin to grind forward, and it is then I decide that today is the day that I MUST have the World of Warcraft battlechest. (This, nonexistant readers, is another blog post altogether.)

On the way to Best Buy, I venture upon a man riding a moped with a large metal garbage can attached to it's back end. Oscar the Grouch finally make the cut as sidekick?

I make my way to Best Buy, Gamestop and Wal-Mart, to find they are all sold out. And, in what can only be regarded as a severe lapse in sanity..........I call my trusty comic book store for help:

"Thank you for calling Kowabunga comics, how can I help you?"

"Yeah.........so I know you guys don't sell PC games, but the world is plotting against me and I REALLY need your help. I'm trying to get my hands on a copy of World of Warcraft that's sold out everywhere. Any ideas?"

And surprisingly unfazed by my brazen cold call for help on a distinctly non-comic issue, they fire up Firefox and manage to find a hole-in-the-wall store that had a couple copies on hand. With my victory assured, I thank them for their help, and claim my bounty.

Upon leaving, I look to the time as that of Lunch. Regarding the local Hardee's with much favor, I go to the drive-thru and place my order. It is here that my scarcely two hours worth of shuteye catch up with me momentarily, and I fall asleep for almost an entire minute. Yes. Alseep. In the drive-thru. Thankfully, the car ahead of me is fully loaded with living lard, and are still being served.

At the window, I look over to my left to see an older dude walking in the building wearing the exact same black Hard Rock San Francisco shirt as I.

Many hours later at the theatre (Harry Potter was AWESOME, by the way), the She-Beast and I order our usual frozen Icees. Upon their receipt, the cashier turns away in the exact same moment the She-Beast knocks her Icee over, sending half of it spewing over/on the cashier's back and all over the floor behind her. Oblivious to this sudden occurrence, the cashier turns around and tells us to "have a nice day" right as we hurriedly grab the remainder of Icees to leave. I can only imagine her horror in the moments that follow.

And finally, after the movie's conclusion, the She-Beast stops for her money-eating Nicotine at the local gas station. Parked next to us is a car full of Kurt Cobain clones (posers??) loudly, and very explicitly detailing their long and arduous wait to use the bathroom earlier in the day. The driver stands outside, leaning casually across the hood, reciting a long dialogue of this traumatizing experience. Two of the passengers chime in details and further commentary as he continues. We leave somewhere in the middle of, "And the damned door just wouldn't open, you know?"

Every word of this is true, I kid you not.

An interesting day. The lesson to be learned from all of this is:

When life gets you down, screw the Bat signal. Just call the comic book store.