OT -Humor?- A Series of Odd Coincidences

It’s Monday morning and the newly wed husband awakens next to his new
bride , in “their” new apartment. He carefully gets up out of “their”
new bed and, still half asleep, shuffles towards the bathroom, mistaking
the walk in closet door for the bathroom door five feet to the left, and
in the half light of early morning, nearly urinates on “their” clothes.

He finds the bathroom, closes the door and then tries to remember where
the bathroom light switch is. He wants to make sure he doesn’t miss
“their” new toilet.

As he’s shaving at “their” new his and hers sinks he glances down at his
watch sitting on the counter top. He has twenty minutes to get to
work. Not to worry, by a wonderful stroke of luck “their” new apartment
is across the street from his office. No more subway or cab rides
during rush hour - and - a new bride. Life is good.

“What a lucky man I am!” he thinks to himself “A wonderful new bride, a
great new apartment and a very short commute. To find a such a
wonderful wife AND a terrific corner apartment so close to work in the
same week! “

Since meeting her just one month ago, at the chi-chi club down the
street, his life had only gotten better. It’d been a whirl wind romance
and she, being a modern woman, was the one who, two bottles of wine into
dinner, “popped the question”. A train ride up to Vermont, a justice of
the peace and they were married!

A beautiful new wife, a great apartment, no more commuting and today
he’d be in his new corner office, one of the perks of being a new Senior
Partner at Dewie Cheatem & Howe. He almost begins whistling to himself
- but resists the urge, not wanting to wake his sleeping “new” bride.

A cup of coffee in his hand, briefcase in the other, he carefully kisses
his “new bride” on the cheek, not wanting to awaken his sleeping beauty,
and heads off to work.

Mondays are always crazy at the office, meeting after meeting, briefs to
prepare, clients to speak with, staff to deal with - a crazy day. He’d
hoped there would be time for a “nooner” but his schedule barely left
time to eat the sandwich he had sent over from the deli.

It was well after two before he actually got to sit in his new office
and finally get to check out the view from his “corner office” - the
symbol of his new status with the firm. His old office, on the other
side of the building overlooked a parking garage.

“Hey, I can see our apartment from here! What a coincidence - it’s just
one floor below my office. And there’s my pretty new bride! She really
should close the curtains if she’s going to wander around in that
diaphanous night gown. She’s a woman of leisure now but there is such a
thing as appropriate modesty.”

Then he notices she’s not alone. His blood pressure spikes - it’s
another man! A HALF DRESSED OTHER MAN, shoes in hand slipping on his
shirt!

“Won’t this freakin' elevator go any frakin' faster?!”, out the door, he
races across the street, dodging cars as he goes. Yanking open the lobby
door he collides with someone coming out of his building. He doesn’t
even attempt to apologize, or even slow down - he’s on a mission.

“I’m gonna kill that Son of a . . .!” Ding- and the elevator door opens.

“Are all the freakin’ elevators in this town this slow!”

He fumbles with his keys, his rage almost making his head explode.

He nearly nails his “new” bride with the door as he charges into “their”
“new apartment.

“Dear you’re home so early. What’s wrong?”

“WHERE IS HE! I’LL KILL THE BASTARD!” he yells, racing from room to
room, looking under the bed and in all the closets.

“What are you talking about? What’s wrong dear?”

“He’s got to be in the kitchen pantry!”

Then he remembers the guy he nearly ran over coming through the main
entrance to his building. The guy had his shoes in his hands and his
tie slung around his collar.

Looking out the large kitchen window he can see the guy almost directly
below trying to hail a cab with one hand while holding his tie in the
other, still slipping on one of his shoes.

“I’LL KILL HIM! I’M GONNA KILL THAT SOB!”

The closest thing at hand is - the refrigerator. With the strength only
an extreme adrenaline rush can produce, he picks up the refrigerator and
hurls it through the window and down onto the guy about to get into a
cab.

The exertion causes the undetected aneurism in his brain to rupture and
he drops dead.

Cut to The Pearly Gates

Saint Peter to the next guy in line:

And how did you die?

Guy Number One:

It was the damnedest thing. My wife forgot to set the alarm,
I was late for work - I’m a detective on swing shift - and while
I was hailing a cab and trying to get my tie on - a refrigerator
fell on me. How or why is a complete mystery.

Saint Peter:

Wait over in Line One

NEXT.

And how did you die?

Guy Number Two:

Well when I threw this refrigerator out the window . . .

Saint Peter, interrupting:

Go directly to Line Three

NEXT

And how did you die?

Guy Number Three:

Well I was hiding in this refrigerator . . .

==============

And now - something completely different -
another coat of Enduro water based, semi-
gloss poly on my semialmost done NEW
mini/midi lathe bench (all one
line so watch the line wrap)

http://home.comcast.net/~charliebcz/CBlatheBench/CBlathebench7.html

charlie b