I might be the most forgetful person of all time, which is weird because I have a great memory. Yeah, I know, that makes no sense, but hear me out. For instance, I can almost always recall the last time I spoke to a person, what they were wearing, what day it was, how warm/cold it was outside, etc. This has its drawbacks, unfortunately, as I remember every single stupid thing I've ever said, and I constantly relive it as if it just happened. If I had any sort of emotions, I'd be crying all the time.
On the flip side, if there's a certain task I'm asked to complete, I just don't remember to do it. I'll come downstairs to grab a glass of water, for example, but I'll text someone and then immediately go upstairs, completely oblivious as to why I went downstairs in the first place. This is something that occurs quite often. You can't even imagine how many times I've gone upstairs solely to grab a pair of socks and come back downstairs without them.
And thus, we arrive to April Fools and April Truths, where last year, I wrote the following:
I hatched a plan to contact Jonathan Frakes, the host of a show that used to air in the late 90s called Fact or Fiction, and ask him to write bad puns at the end of each of my stories. In return, I'd donate to the charity of his choice. ... Unfortunately, contacting Frakes totally slipped my mind. I remembered that I wanted to do another April Fools or April Truths a couple of weeks ago, and by then, it was too late. ... I'll make sure to ask Frakes to do this ahead of time next year.
So, for the second year in a row, this April Fools and April Truths column will be Frakes-less despite my intention of having him briefly featured. I'm going to make sure to contact him six months in advance for the fifth edition, and I'm hoping he'll do it if I donate a sum of money to the charity of his choice. I think it's extremely important to feature him, based on the outstanding work he did for Fact or Fiction:
Unfortunately, knowing me, I'll probably forget to contact him, so this is just me apologizing in advance!
At any rate, if you're not familiar with my April Fools and April Truths feature in Jerks of the Week, I'll tell six crazy stories that may or may not have happened to me recently, and each of them will contain a horrible Frakes-type pun at the end. Write down or try to remember whether each story is an April Fool or April Truth, and then check the answers at the bottom when you finish all six.
Let's get started...
1. Hot Tub Weirdos:
I mentioned last week that I now belong to LA Fitness, which has been nice because a membership has given me both a hot tub and writing material. The two haven't mixed yet, but as you'll see, that will change in this entry.
After swimming about a mile, I somehow managed to get out of the pool and flopped into the hot tub. There were two guys sitting in there; one had a long, gray beard, while the other appeared vaguely familiar. It took me about a minute to place his face, only because he looked much different the last time I saw him. He was the guy with the ugly silk shirt I almost got into a fight with in the parking lot! You can read all about it via the link in the previous paragraph. Fortunately, he did not recognize me, or we might have actually thrown down.
I sat there quietly, relaxing, but this was interrupted about a minute later when the bearded guy said the following to me:
"We were watching ya swim, heh heh heh."
"Ya were going pretty fast, heh heh heh."
I didn't have anything to say in response, as I was too distracted by his mouth. I noticed that all four of his front teeth were missing. Combined with his long beard, he looked like some crazy loon who lives in a cabin by himself deep in a secluded forest.
Toothless Bearded Guy then looked down at all of the bubbles near him.
Toothless Bearded Guy: Look at all of the bubbles here. Do ya see them?
Toothless Bearded Guy: No one sees what's happening down here with all these bubbles.
Me: That's true.
Toothless Bearded Guy: No one ever comes in here, heh heh heh. No one is gonna see anything.
Me: Yeah... wait, what?
Was this guy asking if I wanted to blow him underwater? Why else would he be saying this?
Meanwhile, Silk Shirt Guy, who had been sitting silently right next to Toothless Bearded Guy this whole time, winked at me. I then felt what appeared to be his foot touching my arm.
I didn't know how to react. I was about to have a panic attack when I was saved by two Muslim-looking guys who stepped into the hot tub. Toothless Bearded Guy and Silk Shirt Guy were now the ones who were apprehensive. They looked at each other and briskly vacated the hot tub; apparently, they were too scared to be sharing a hot tub with a pair of men whom they believed to have bombs strapped to their swim trunks.
I had never been so happy to see two people who could have blown me to smithereens. Believe me, that would be better than having to actually do the blowing myself. Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course.
So, was this story about the two creepy guys who wanted head in the hot tub something that actually happened to me? Or am I blowing you away with a work of fiction?
2. Angry Russian Mom:
I'm not done discussing the hot tub at LA Fitness. I went into it the next time I worked out, and thankfully, the two creepy guys were nowhere to be seen. I was actually alone in the entire pool area, save for the lifeguard, a tan dude wearing a Penn State shirt.
Suddenly, three women entered the pool deck. They appeared to be a family, as two of the members were an old lady and a middle-aged woman, both of whom were incredibly overweight. The other was a girl who may have been in her late teens or early 20s. She had nice legs, as she was attractive from the waist down, but her face was just meh, and she had small boobs. Still, she was a sight for sore eyes after I had seen the two older women.
Anyway, the reason I believe these three women were a family is because the two older women, both of whom were Russian, went into the pool and constantly asked the youngest woman, who joined me in the hot tub, to come swim with them. Every time they'd float - they sure as hell weren't swimming - toward the end next to the hot tub, I'd hear, "Come svim vis us! Come svim!" The butterface-n-boobs just shook her head each time.
It would take each of these older women about three minutes to return to our end each time. I was expecting the mom to ask her daughter to "come svim" once more on her latest trip, but instead she asked, "iz varm in zere?" To me utter surprise, the daughter shook her head once more.
This shocked me. I thought the hot tub was, well, hot. It seemed like it was about 102-103 degrees. Sure, it wasn't scalding, but it definitely qualified as warm. I was beginning to think that this girl was a mute who was only capable of shaking her head, but I was distracted by a whacking sound. I glanced over and saw that the Russian mom was hitting the lifeguard with one of her noodles!
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
The Russian mom wouldn't stop, while the lifeguard appeared to be completely taken aback.
Lifeguard: Ma'am, what are you doing? Stop!
Angry Russian Mom: Vhy iz hot tub no varm!? Vhy hot tub no varm! Make hot tub varm!
Lifeguard: Oww! I don't control the temperature! I- oww! Stop, please!
Angry Russian Mom: Vhy no varm!? Make varm now! My Sonyachka need varm vater!
The lifeguard retreated, and I couldn't help but laugh. The Angry Russian Mom noticed this and stared at me angrily. I took that as my cue to leap out of the hot tub, grab my bag and sprint toward the locker room. And by "sprint," I mean walk slowly because I am fat.
Did this actually happen? Was there a crazy lady who attacked the lifeguard because the hot tub wasn't warm enough? Or are you being whacked with another lie?
3. Underwear Guy:
My crazy day wasn't done. Relieved I didn't get pelted by Angry Russian Mom's green tentacle/noodle, I placed my bags down and ventured toward the shower. However, I was distracted by two things on my way there.
The first was some dude who also went to my former gym. We both recognized each other, though we had never really spoken to one another. I remember playing basketball with him once, but that was about it. So, we did the whole, "How's it going, man?" thing, and then, things got awkward. I reached out to shake his hand, but he didn't seem to recognize what I was doing, so he didn't bring his arm forward. I then pulled my arm back, and he extended his to shake mine, but it was already too late.
"Umm, OK, cool, see ya," I said, walking away, knowing that I'd remember that moment for the rest of my life. See, it's this type of stuff that I'm talking about. I've only met one other person like this, and we're not on good terms right now. Come to think of it, it seems like I'm not on good terms with a lot of people...
Anyway, the second thing that distracted me was this crazy-looking guy. He was in his 50s and had wavy gray hair that made Albert Einstein's hairdo appear as though it had just been groomed. What made him stand out, however, was that he was wearing tighty-whitey underwear - with a large brown poop stain in the back.
"Hehehehehehehehe," he cackled, running by me. That's when I caught a whiff of whatever caused the poop stain, and I had to keep myself from puking.
About 30 seconds later, about a half-dozen people who were in the sauna vacated it.
"What the f***!?" some guy with a tattoo shrieked, holding his nose. Everyone else looked angry as well. Then, out came Poop-Stain Underwear Guy, continuing to laugh.
"Hehehehehehehehehe," he hooted, sprinting by me in the other direction. I had to restrain myself from vomiting once more.
Following my shower, I quickly got dressed in an effort to avoid another encounter with Poop Stain Underwear Guy. I was fortunate enough to do so. As I was leaving, I saw one of the gym employees enter the locker room with a police officer.
Gym Employee: Where'd the guy with the poop in his underwear go?
Tattoo Guy: I saw him running toward the pool deck.
You know what? I regret that I left. I'd pay anything right now to see what happened when Angry Russian Mom and Poop-Stained Underwear Guy clashed.
What do you think? Was there really a guy with poop-stained underwear wreaking - and reeking - havoc upon everyone in the locker room? Or have I defecated yet another crappy, fake story?
4. Angry Indian Mom:
I ran into some trouble on the way home. Or rather, right outside of my home.
When I pulled into my development, I took the first right instead of the second one so that I could go to the community mailbox. Unfortunately, this took me a while, since some Indian kid, who was about 12 years old, was on one of those new hoverboards, and he was "hovering" right in the middle of the street. I honked my horn, but he obliviously continued "hovering" right in front of me. I would've run him over, but that's against the damn law.
It took me a while, but I was able to finally park my car right near the mailboxes. I gathered everything in the mailbox and noticed that the Indian kid, who also was retrieving his mail, kept dropping stuff. He refused to jump off his hoverboard, however, and he kept spinning around as he was trying to pick up the mail off the ground. It was one of the funniest things I had ever seen, and I laughed extremely loudly. The Indian kid somehow didn't seem to notice.
I was hoping to drive in front of him, but by the time I put the mail in the car and backed up, the damn Indian kid was already in front of me. I was hoping he would use the sidewalk this time, but the douche continued to "hover" down the middle of the street, making it impossible to pass him.
"What a f***ing a**hole!" I yelled. I did this, forgetting that the windows were open. Suddenly, the Indian kid turned right, "hovering" toward his house, and some Indian lady, who apparently was his mother, stormed over the car.
"What did you say about my son!?" she shrieked.
With the road clear in front of me, I slammed on the gas, leaving her in the dust, as she waved her fist angrily at me. I then circled around the neighborhood twice so she didn't see where my house was.
So, what do you think? Was this tale about the Indian kid and his mom a truthful one? Or have I hovered over the truth once more?
5. Pickle Thieves:
Swimming so much always works up an appetite. Fortunately, there's a new place called Larry's Steaks within walking distance from my house, which has some awesome cheesesteaks. This is a dream come true for me. No, it really is. If I found a magic lamp when I was around 21, and a genie granted me three wishes, I would've asked for:
1. Be able to run my Web site as a full-time job.
2. Get molested by two hot chicks at the same time.
3. Be within walking distance of an awesome cheesesteak place.
The first has come true, thankfully. The second has not, but I was close during my college graduation party, which is a story for another time. The third, fortunately, is now a reality!
I walked over to Larry's Steaks that night to grab some dinner. There were a couple of Muslim-looking dudes behind the counter. I didn't really care though. They could've put atomic bombs in my cheesesteak, and I would've been fine with it as long as it tasted as great as always.
As I was waiting on my order, a couple of teenage hotshots strolled into Larry's Steaks. One guy, appearing drunk, went to the counter and tried ordering something, but all he kept doing was slurring. The other guys ventured toward the back. None of the Larry's Steaks employees saw what was going on because they were distracted by the drunk dude, but I picked up on exactly what they were doing - they were stealing all of the pickles from the pickle bar!
And yes, Larry's Steaks has a pickle bar. Customers can grab all of the free pickles they want. These punks, however, were not customers. They came in just for the pickles, so I had to rat them out. Not because I'm a snitch, but because I wanted to grab all the pickles myself!
"Hey, those guys are stealing all of the pickles," I said quietly to one of the Muslim-looking dudes.
His eyes widened. He grabbed a meat cleaver and ran toward the teenage punks.
"Get out of here or I kill you!" he bellowed, chasing after them. They, along with the drunken dude, sprinted out of the store.
Once they were gone, he turned to me and said, "You save pickles! I give you 50 percent off order!"
I almost broke down and cried tears of utter joy.
So, how about it? Did I save the day at Larry's Steaks? Or has another fake story put you in a pickle?
6. Dunkin Donuts Jokester:
I couldn't quite go home yet, as I had to stop in to Dunkin' Donuts and grab an iced coffee for my girlfriend. I'm not even sure what iced coffee is - I am not a coffee-drinker at all; I think it tastes like whatever came out of Poop-Stained Underwear Guy's buttocks - so I don't know what these fancy-shmancy things like iced coffees and mocha lattes even are.
There was one guy at the counter when I walked into Dunkin' Donuts. He was about 60, and he was wearing a gray suit. He looked at me and strangely said, "My friend, you can go ahead of me in line."
I accepted, though I was cautious that this was going to be another Toothless Bearded Guy situation. Instead, the guy in the suit began telling me a story.
I was out at the bar tonight and I ran into my friend Larry. I hadn't seen him since early February, so I ask him, "Hey Larr, what did you end up getting your wife for Valentine's Day?" He said, "I got her a bag and a belt." I go, "Oh wow, those sound like great gifts. Did she like them?" Then, Larry shrugs his shoulder and says, "I sure hope so. Our vacuum cleaner was broken!"
I laughed, which delighted the old man. He grabbed my shoulder and told me another story:
At this bar, I ran into my friend Steve, who looked pretty down. I asked him what was wrong. "My wife and I got into a fight, and she said she wasn't going to talk to me for 30 days," he said, sounding rather upset. I told him not to worry, and that 30 days would fly by before he knew it. "No," he answered. "You don't understand. Today is the 30th day!"
I liked that joke much more, and I laughed harder. The Dunkin' Donuts jokester beamed. Meanwhile, the two Indian people behind the counter looked at each other nervously. They must have been wondering if he was there to deport them, or perhaps, they questioned why some random guy was standing at the counter at Dunkin' Donuts and telling jokes to random people.
One of the Indians gave me my iced coffee. I said goodbye to Dunkin Donuts Jokester, who was distracted by some middle-aged woman who entered the store. He looked at her and said, "My friend, you can go ahead of me line." As I walked out the door, I heard him say, "I was out at the bar tonight and I ran into my friend Larry..."
So, this guy was just standing around and telling the same jokes to everyone in Dunkin' Donuts. I wonder why. Was he a comedian trying some new material? Was he a lonely dude with no friends? Or was he really there to deport the Indians? Your guess is as good as mine.
What do you think? Is the story about this comedian at Dunkin' Donuts a true one? Or is the joke really on you?
Did you figure out which stories are April Fools and which ones are April Truths? Here's your last chance before looking at the answer key...
Hot Tub Weirdos - April Truth! This was one of the scariest moments of my life. Thanks to my memory, I'll never forget how wide the gap was in Toothless Bearded Man's mouth.
Angry Russian Mom - April Truth! Poor lifeguard... getting slapped by the fat woman's noodle/tentacle must not have been a pleasurable experience.
Poop-Stained Underwear Guy - April Fools! Part of this story was true. I did have that awkward non-handshake with that guy, and there was a crazy-looking dude wearing just tighty-whiteys roaming around, but he did not have any poop stains, and there were no cops involved.
Angry Indian Mom - April Truth! I have officially become the grumpy, old man of my development, but I don't care. Damn kids and their hoverboards. Who do they think they are?
Pickle Thieves - April Fools! Some teenage punks did actually walk into Larry's Steaks, and one of them drunkenly tried to order something, but there were no pickles stolen. And unfortunately, I did not get a 50-percent discount.
Dunkin' Donuts Jokester - April Truth! I still don't understand why this guy, dressed in a snazzy gray suit, was just standing in Dunkin' Donuts and telling jokes to everyone. So weird.
How many did you figure out correctly? And what does your score say about you?
0-1 Correct - You obviously don't know me at all, so let me make this clear: If you're a crazy, toothless bearded guy, no, I do not want to give you oral sex.
2-3 Correct - You don't know me that well, so that probably means I'll have an awkward handshake with you at some point.
4-5 Correct - You know me very well. Hopefully you appreciate how grumpy and old I've become.
6 Correct - You know me way too well. So well that you've probably read this already via the cameras you installed in my house. If you're crazy, I only ask that you refrain from running around in poop-stained underwear.