Scenario 1
You're at the gym, ready to get your sweat on. You strip off your hoodie, coat, sweats, and are ready to get it in like FloJo on the treadmill that you specifically picked out for its location - bordered by the mirrored wall, of course. You place your water bottle in the water bottle holder, you re-tie your sneakers to make sure your feets are ready to fly for at least 4 miles, the ipod is set to your "work-it-out" playlist, towel is swung over the data panel so you don't have to stare at the clock while time passes ever so slowly as you trudge along for 30 minutes. You is red to go.
You press "Quick Start" on the machine. Nothing. The damn thing is broken! So now you have to pack up all your shizz and find another machine that is free and set it up all over again. Ugh!
Scenario 2
You're at the office and just saw the most hilarious youtube clip that Jake forwarded you. Upon summoning your co-workers to huddle around your desk to peep the hilarity, you are greeted by a blank web page and/or an error message. After a few minutes of awkward silence while waiting for the page to load, your co-workers slowly slink away one by one and ask you to let them know when the site is up. Boo.
Scenario 3
Your favorite tv show is mid-season and every episode is fresh and new. You tivo/dvr this week's episode and hurry home on Friday to finally watch it. Then you realize that tv guide lied to you. This ain't a "new" episode! It's a friggin clip show of what has transpired thus far this season! Boo! You'll have to wait until next week for a true "new" episode.
I have been burned by Top Model many a time. The biggest burn was part one of the series finale of Seinfeld. What a rip!
Scenario 4
You're at your favorite boutique, department store, friend's closet, etc. and have amassed an armful of frocks that you want to try on and hopefully purchase should they fit appropriately. You carefully survey the showroom floor one last time to make sure you didn't miss a garment that you want to try on.
Off you go to the dressing room, de-robe, and reach for your first garment. Dammit! Wrong size! You could have sworn you grabbed an 8, but this thing is clearly meant for a child. Or anorexic. Regardless, it ain't fittin' over your lady lumps. So you reach for the next garment and realize you totally have the wrong undergarments on - it's a slinky strapless number and you have on an over the shoulder boulder holder and granny panties. Boo!
I usually am so frustrated at this point I storm out of there and head to the nearest shoe store, where I know I am prepared to try stuff on. Although in my big footed case they rarely have my size so I am forced to window shop, buy accessories, and go home to my closest to take my pick of re-runs. Tragic.
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