Yesterday, on my way to a chiropractic appointment, I made a pit stop in the ladies’ room.
Yeah, you know this is going to be a great post.
Anyway, in the stall, there was a business card – just sitting on the little metal trash bin. You know, the sanitary personal hygiene disposal bin?
Yeah.
OK, then.
My gut reaction was, “Well. I guess boxers don’t e-mail.”
But then I woke up and started asking the tough questions. How does the business card for a boxer end up on top of the sanitary personal hygiene disposal bin thing for secret ladypart products? In the restroom of an office building?
And does the boxer reprint his business cards with every new fight? Otherwise, he’s giving out-of-date information … information that’s supposed to speak for itself.
And if his record speaks for itself, why does he even need a phone number?
And then I looked up boxing records with my friend Google. Tiger’s record sucks. He’s only won two bouts. Out of 329.
So, having his business card land on top of a metal sanitary secret ladyparts product trash bin disposal thingy must either be finally hitting bottom, or just another exciting adventure in a life led with great humor.
It makes me want to print up bogus business cards and leave them in random places, just to see who will e-mail me.
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