Fact Or Reality? You choose!

It was indeed a fruitful day. The discovery of how the typical neanderthal male brain functions to a man is indeed a rewarding and grotesque sight. This is how one event can grab you by the cojones and give you a taste of your machismo hitting the windshield like an unsuspecting moth at 120 miles per hour. How did it happen? I'll tell you.

Three o'clock; Friday afternoon. I was waiting by elevator lobby overlooking the street waiting for the lift to take me upstairs to the penthouse office. To my left my colleague S, came running up the steps grabbing two neat razor packs (Schick Quattro, if you will) while dashing for the second floor office door. He saw me standing by the elevator door and proceeded to educate me on how they were giving out free razors (Yes! These are the ones that cost twenty seven dollars on a typical grocery day) at the street corner for a limited capsule of time. He was able to produce two separate ones from two of the girls giving out these at two separate corners. Brilliant!

At this very moment, the elevator bell went ding and the door opened. What do I see? An absolutely beautiful blonde in a black pant suit clutching a roll of drawings! She smiled; a good sign I purred to myself. I guess she was going upstairs to the penthouse office where I was destined to break into a song and make my move with my charming desi accent. This was meant to be my lucky day! Contemplation and speculation the double edged sword made sharp contact with the soft contents of my cranium. Free Razors or a ten second conversation with an absolutely stunning woman? A few seconds seemed like forever as I nervously looked from side to side, speculating hard. Free Razors or a ten second conversation with an absolutely stunning woman? Tick! Tock! Tick! Tock!

S's grin while he clutched dearly to his razors gave way to self-realization. Free Razors! I smiled at the beautiful architect, tipped my no-existent hat and dashed to my left to engage the stairs in my downward descent from the floor and my self esteem. What a jerk! While I huffed my way to the street, I saw the free razor campaign girls pull out the last razor out of a visibly empty bag and hand it over to a seventy six year old woman. Life turned into a slow-mo bullet timed moment as I tried to make it to the corner so that I could grab the last one for the benefit of mankind! Alas! It was gone… The old woman grinned at me; a smile of jubilance. Rheumatism's victory over 35% BMI! She gripped her fortune of war and walked away. It was probably for her cat Frisky who had decided to sport a goatee after turning into a heavy metal fan. Friggin' luck!

Now you may call me stupid. I think I'd have to agree. I traded a lovely chance to make polite conversation with a very beautiful, visibly intelligent woman for a rat race with Frisky on her diet meal plan. I guess me being an idiot is justified. Sigh!