From the Woman Who Brought You Terrorists Who Poison Your Food
Technically, I didn’t bring you the terrorists. I just called attention to them. Well, I tried to call attention to them. As far as I can tell, the F organizations (FBI and FDA) have made absolutely no attempt to thwart the terrorists’ blatant attempt to slowly sabotage our population by putting memory-erasing additives in increasingly gluten free food. Of course, they could be making efforts that I don’t know about – or that I’ve conveniently forgotten.
In the meantime, the terrorists have infiltrated the dry cleaning business. How do I know this? My keen powers of observation tell me so.
I was recently at the cleaners, and got a bit nosy about one what of the employees was doing behind the counter.
“What is she doing?” I subtly asked the person dropping my clothes into a bag.
“Her? Oh, she’s just ironing a bar code onto those pants. You know, so we can make sure they don’t get lost.” She said this kind of nervously. And who can blame her for being nervous when being interrogated by the intrepid Mrs. Cap’n Firepants?
Before I could ask any more penetrating questions, the terrorist/dry cleaner employee shoved my claim ticket into my hand, and beckoned the next customer.
And then it hit me.
“Oh. My. God.” I thought. I raced home and dashed into my closet. Sure enough, all of my recently drycleaned clothing had bar codes in them.
So much for my keen powers of observation.
“I’ve been violated and I didn’t even know it!” I whispered to my bar-code free pajama pants.
Sure, they say it’s to make sure my ten dollar blouse doesn’t end up in the hands of a serial dry cleaning thief. But I know better.
The terrorists are tracking my clothing.
That way, when I finally kick the bucket as a result of their food poisoning plot, and my husband gives away my clothes to someone, and the new someone brings them in to be cleaned, and the terrorist/dry cleaner sees that someone else used to own those pants, and they call my house to let me know that my pants have been filched, and my husband lets them know that the pants are no longer mine because I am deceased due to forgetting that I’m not supposed to walk in front of cars going 65 miles an hour (and he assures the terrorist/dry cleaner that those are not the actual pants I was wearing when I met my demise), the terrorist/dry cleaner will be satisfied that the food poisoning plot is working just as planned and report this encouraging progress to the Head Honcho Terrorist with a cryptic tweet, like, “The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants wears control top panty hose.”
My husband seems to think this is a bit “of a reach”. Coincidentally, he uses a different dry cleaner. Who does not put bar codes in his pants.
So, clearly, I am sleeping with the enemy.
The plot thickens.
Posted on April 2, 2013, in Cap'n Firepants, Family, Humor, Marriage, Memory Loss, Relationships, Terrorism. Bookmark the permalink. 24 Comments.
If that’s true, do you think you can hurry the terrorists along? Went to pick up my wife’s dry cleaning once.
The tag was stuck to the wrong clothes. Stepped out to make a call.
When I came back, the guy was writing a new tag to match the clothes it was on.
Gosh, that kind of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?
You are the only one, other than me, that seems to think so!
Did you post something about jeans yesterday?? My emails inbox said you did but my blog says differently?
Umm not that I want to give you something extra to worry about, terrorist clothes theif and everything but I just really would hate to miss out on one of your posts (And this is the second time it has happened!)
Yes and no. I was writing a rough draft on my iPad, except my WordPress app thought I wanted to publish it even though I wanted to save it as a rough draft because I thought it sucked. Upon reading it over last night, I realized I was wrong. It REALLY sucked. So, anyway, I figured out right away that WordPress had sabotaged me again, and switched it back to a draft. Be glad you didn’t read it.
I am certain it didn’t suck! In fact I was singing the praises of your blog to my other half last night!
Now I have a new reason to keep procrastinating a trip to the cleaners, thanks! 8)
I can give you a few more if you like…
I doubt that my dry cleaners uses this technique. She has a princess phone and a cash register like the general store on The Andy Griffith Show. Or is that just to lull me into a false sense of security…..?
Absolutely. Those mom and pop joints are the terrorists’ favorite places to congregate.
I am starting to really like this story line:)
You must not be a terrorist, then. Or else you would be concerned that I am unveiling your evil plot.
Can we get Keifer to do a season of 24 based on this plot? I LOVE it already! Keifer could be your husband, and you can pick who plays you. (Who would that be?)
Jennifer Garner. Definitely. She will always play me in every film or t.v. series. She plays me now, actually; she just doesn’t know it.
Omg! I was going to suggest her but wasn’t sure if you were a fan! How funny. 🙂
I’ve been a fan since her Alias days. I’m pretty sure we are sisters separated at birth – even though she is younger than I am.
*dying* (not literally – although, if i do – die literally…and mysteriously….or i’ve been shot down – please look for bar codes in my clothes?)
Just don’t commit any felonies and carelessly leave your barcoded clothing behind. I hear that’s how they caught Son of Sam.
The only way I’d say yes to bar codes in my clothes is if I had a sister who “borrows.”
I like that idea!
Okay, that’s scary, but I have the perfect solution: ban clothing that requires dry-cleaning. I’m sure we’d all be much richer, happier, and safer. 🙂
Eek! I was going to ask about hating jeans, too- but see you answered that. I thought it was going to be because you had to wear them with flats. 🙂
Pingback: This Is How People End Up On Nancy Grace | whatimeant2say