I consolidated the stories about Fred.


...long live, Hill Blocks View. I miss writing. But the thought of one more round of "welcome backs", or obsessing over stats, or thinking of the clever response to a comment, or the obligation to read everyone else's blog... not so much. So I'll try and write. No pressure. If you feel the need to respond, you can email me. I like email. flipaul@yahoo.com

Monday, June 2, 2014

Super Secret Undercover Disguise.

My wife works at an upscale health food/grocery store. Sometimes I go in just to say hi, but she is worried that she is going to get in trouble because I am always hanging out, and her bosses think she should be working instead of talking. She also she claims that her work is getting tired of a plumber roaming around the aisles. I guess I don't fit in with the upscale clientele that they are hoping to attract. But I want to see her, so super secret undercover disguises are my only option.
    I need to go as somebody that has money, because those are the kind of clients her store is looking for. Who has more money than an Oil Sheik?

    Oops. I was too conspicuous. In the absence of a single person of Arabic descent in my entire city, my disguise had the opposite effect and drew attention to me and embarrassed my wife to tears. Also my full beard and rather distinctive face were visible to all. Back to the drawing board. 

Apparently ninjas aren't as invisible as one would think. In the desert. In the middle of the day. And swords are somewhat frowned upon in polite society. My wife is threatening to leave me if I ever wear a disguise into her store again. What to do? I can't bear to lose her, but I can't stand to be apart for eight hours either. I know. When are you ever in less of a disguise than when in your birthday suit? But it is verboten to walk around the city naked. Easily solved; I'll just wear an overcoat until I get inside.