This Is The Real Me, Ladies. You Won't Find No Shelter Here.

Today we were working at a giant scrap-booking compound in Provo. When we finished, we had some big cardboard boxes that needed to be put in the trash. We couldn't find a dumpster around and the truck was stuffed full so we put the garbage on the roof of the camper shell and drove down the road in search of a trash receptacle.

We spotted one behind a dance studio and as we pulled into the parking lot we noticed two girls sitting near the street. They were staring at us and only stared harder as we approached. When we past within a few feet of them, they were still staring and their faces lit up with smiles. I waved at them.

My coworker said, "Why did you wave at them? And why were they smiling at us like that? Because we're two dudes driving around together in a tiny truck? We look gay?"

I said, "Yeah. That was my sexual-harassment wave. Sometimes the only way to convince girls that you're not gay is to sexually harrass them."



Earlier, when we were eating lunch I asked him, "Did you notice that nearly every girl that works in that scrapbook place is huge and pregnant? Like they have a sign inside that says YOU MUST BE AT LEAST THIS PREGNANT TO APPLY?"

My coworker leaned close and said under his breath, "I probably shouldn't say this in the middle of a crowded restaurant but... it's a different breed of people down in Utah County."

I said, "Yeah, you shouldn't have said that. Some guy is going to jump us in the parking lot, yelling A DIFFERENT BREED WITH SUPER HEARING. KA-POW!" at which point I threw a punch into the empty air before me.