Thursday, November 09, 2006

Why I Love California

Yesterday, the girlfriend and I opted to take a drive to go get something to eat for lunch, as opposed to our normal routine of walking to the cafeteria at work. Well, I suppose that that would be true if instead of opted, you put "had," and if you added nearly anywhere in that sentence that the reason was "because I'm a moron who forgot something at my apartment."

Go ahead. Add it anywhere. It's hours of fun.

In any case, the little shopping center we went to in La Jolla was jam packed, which I thought was odd at first, until I remembered that everyone who lives in La Jolla is independently wealthy/kings or queens of small European countries.

Obviously, because of the number of people, parking was horrible. When I finally saw that a car was backing up, I stopped a safe distance away, and waited for him to leave. When the car left, I allowed a few cars to pass, because, although I had a straight shot at the spot, I was technically on the other side of a little intersection in parking lot. However, in my act of generosity, I allowed another vehicle to notice the spot, and he started towards the spot. However, when he started to speed up to get the spot, I also sped up, as if to send the message, "If you think you're getting this spot, you've got another think coming. Also, I suspect you have relations with barnyard animals." Our mutual speeding up caused us both to slam on the brakes, thus halting our mutually assured destructions.

As I sat there wondering just how this dispute would work itself out, I noticed the other driver stick his fist out of the window, and started to shake it. While in some cultures, this might be regarded as a hostile act, I nearly immediately realized that he meant to play rock, paper, scissors for the spot.

The sweat poured down my brow as we shook our hands in unison. I tried to gather information about the man to help me in my battle. Was he cold, like a rock? Or skinny, like paper? Or was he sharp to the touch, like scissors? I somehow thought that he'd choose paper, and so I went with scissors. Unfortunately for our hero, I was soundly defeated when his bold and unexpected play of rock crushed my scissors.

I didn't get the spot that day. But I did get a smile.

5 comments:

Thany said...

I have never heard of anything like this before! And I love it.

I wonder if we could use rock, paper, scissors to settle even bigger issues? Like the war in Iraq? The next Presidential Election (it would make CNN commentary so much more interesting) or even who has to do the dishes. Hmmmmmm......

Analyst Catalyst said...

I heard that recently at some big poker tournament, a bunch of the players all staged a mini rock, paper, scissors tournament while they were between rounds.

It's kinda funny, because I always think of poker players as pretty serious people, so to hear that they took time to do this was hilarious to me.

The gf said...

It really was the funniest thing I have encountered in a long time... words weren't even needed, it was just 1, 2, 3, and we instantly knew the spot was theirs. No angry words, no one flipping fingers, no grumbling. Even though we had lost, we somehow felt the outcome was fair and reasonable. Hahaha... I loved it! Love you too, my Love!

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Red Riding Hood said...

love it love it love it!