Esss Broken

** It's Monday & That means it's time for "Humor from Afghanistan" and my Husband has not failed us, His tail of going shopping left me in stitches!,,, I hope you enjoy & If you do please leave Jack a Comment **

Broken versus Unbroken…

Tsk…tsk…tsk….meeester….tsk…tsk…tsk!!!

I’m in an alley surrounded by mud huts….concrete barriers and four bony fingers pointing at me and scolding me…..you remember…like when you get caught dressing the family dog in your sister’s clothes…plus our dog only had three legs (not kidding) …her name was Sugar…she was like a Blue Tick Healer except a mongrel…so it was always a challenge to get everything to stay on until she ran down the street in front of all my sister’s friends (thank goodness for duct tape)…I believe I am the cause for my sister being held back a grade that year….yes!!

By the way….everything in the first sentence is my wife’s fault…….really!!

I bought a purse from a small Afghan boy which is hand sewn by the locals…it isn’t very big….but the workmanship is first rate and it is absolutely beautiful…besides…it was three bucks…

My bride never calls me cheap…just extremely frugal…..hmmm…I think it was taking her to the “dollar” theater after we first met….and yes…I had her smuggle in popcorn in her purse….I obviously couldn’t get it in my wallet…(hey…good excuse to carry a man purse like they do in Europe…..NOT!…..but I digress)…that stuff at the movies is outrageous!!……..everything was fine until we added the butter…you figure it out..

So the wife and I are skyping and I make the mistake of showing her present….”oh honey…that is sooo cute….you must get me more….you must!”…..ok….now I have a “honey do” mission and I am only 9000 freakin miles away…geesh!

So I have a day off…..no rest for the weary…..I sign up to ride the eight passenger van of death to complete my mission….first…I must trick the 15 or so Ghurkas into letting me have a seat so I don’t have to ride on the roof rack like the last time…just as the van pulls up I throw down two handfuls of tootsie rolls…HA…that oughta hold them for a second…I jump over the scrambling mass of squirming humanity and dive into the van…and I have seat…YES!…I wrap my arm around the seatbelt in case I doze off and they try to throw me out while the van is moving…

I am HIGH SPEED LOW DRAG…..ok…if you are not an Army type…that’s ok…I’ll explain…the term refers to a thing or person who at that particular moment is “all that and a bag of chips“….…I’m not sure if the Marines use that particular saying…but I bet they have something similar….that’s just the way we roll!!

Now this van is nothing special…it is one of those Toyota mini vans where the driver sits over the front wheel like some kind of sick circus ride….and they are all dog-butt ugly in about every way……...except one…..and that is exactly why I need ONE!

I make fun of the better half for buying bottled water because the bottle is “pretty”…..well…I’m no better….I have succumbed to the same vice…except for me it’s the name….yep….these mini vans look identical in every way except for their names….

“SUPER ACE VELOCITY…..LIMITED

“TURBO POWER SUPER HYPER………LIMITED

My favorite “TOURISIMO MAXIMUS EXOTICA…..LIMITED

Not sure what the LIMITED is all about….but they all have it….so I guess I need the LIMITED….right?

Where were we…oh yeah…..I get to Camp Eggers…..imagine a double E ride at Disney world on steroids…now you have some idea of what it is like to ride with our “designated” driver…of course a local…he is a cross between Eviel Knievel and Mario Andretti….with a little Spunge Bob thrown in for interest…I’m not sure where we found this guy…I think when the war first started we bombed an Insane Asylum and he wandered out of his padded cell to Camp Sully…

I am now wandering thru the maze of hescos (google) to get to the Post Exchange…PX…now most PX’s actually have useful things to buy….unfortunately Eggers doesn’t fall into that category…I really didn’t need any feminine hygiene products, Pringles or a magazine on how to trick out a Humvee….so I went to the coffee shop…..

You can actually get a fresh cup of really good coffee (The Green Bean)…..

and now the moment I dread…its time to catch the van (I like to call it Exotica) back to Sully….but wait…….there he is….lurking in the shadows…my little seven year old Sharkster….with his henchmen….which consisted of another seven year old, eight year old and a niner…….my leeetle friend has purses to sell me…….

So we begin to haggle over the price…this is my favorite part…it involves a lot of fist shaking…arm waving…kicking the dirt and spitting (my favorite part)….I’m just glad I’m not required to whistle…let’s just say I’m challenged in that department…I pucker up and blow and absolutely nothing comes out except air….it’s quite sad to witness this defect and I usually must be bribed with some type of adult beverage before I willingly humiliate myself…

We agree on a price ….I am pleased with my efforts…I wipe the sweat from my brow and pay my purse vender exactly what I paid him the last time…I was robbed….again!!

I hand him a fist full of wadded up ones and we shake on the transaction…this is where the situation went south on me…as I turn to walk away… my leeetle friend nonchalantly asks me if I would like to trade him a $20 dollar bill for all the $1 dollar bills I just gave him (they get a better exchange rate from the money changer dude)….sure why not……he excitedly pulls out all his $1 dollar bills and commences to count them out….he was amazing….nobody in Vegas has the dexterity of this kid….he counted out those bills so fast it sounded like a card taped to a bicycle wheel…..tictictictictictic…

And he was counting so fast it ran all together….

onetwothreefourfivsixseveigtnintenelevtwelvthirtnfrtnfiftnsxtnsevntneightnnintnTWENTEEEE

He really liked emphasizing the TWENTEEE…what a showman…

So I pull out my $20 dollar bill and attempt to hand it to the ringleader….this is when it happened….Spanky and the Gang all took a step back…took a deep breath and began to tsk tsk tsk tsk me… and point at me with their pointy little digits! They all stared at my $20 dollar bill like a bunch of goats staring at a new fence…

Meeester…Meesster….it is broken!!

This particular $20 bill had a tear in it approximately 100^th of a millimeter on the edge….it eees broken!! Well I tell you…this kid was madder than the guy who found out his blind date was with Janet Reno..

So I dig into my man purse (just joking) and I give my leeetle friend a fresh new crisp $20 bill which wasn’t broken….whew!!

I was exhausted… I looked at friend who was doubled over in Hyena-style

Laughter….I persuaded him not to talk on how I was run roughshod by a seven year old..…I promised him a tube of Pringles and I would show him my shiny bullet…

We see the van….its coming our way….we begin to walk towards it….out of the corner of my eye I see a woman with an armful of scarves….she is walking like a mad woman…tracking my friend and I like a wire-guided missile….the van…the women…BLAM!!…the woman wins….she is out of breath (but so are we)….she’s speaks….Pashmina…Pashmina…..now we’re talking!!

She is holding on to the side of the van as it is trying to pull away… Pashmina….Pashimina….I yell…how much….she replies….four dollar for you special meester……STOP THE VAN!!!….screech…thump…(van stopped…woman didn’t)

Ahaaa…finally…I’m not the one getting taken to the cleaners….this poor women…my superior intellect and business prowess has finally won the day…..well….that’s what I thought anyway….as we drive off I pull my Scarf out of the plastic (that should have been the first sign)…and read the label…it doesn’t say Pashmina……it says Pash--Ninja……I am told by the driver as he went over the curb to try and hit a pedestrian…that my scarf was made from the finest cat hair available….

I do love my scarf…but…..I have the strongest urge to cough up a hair ball every time I wear it…

Broken Boy….signing off

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Thank you my frugal husband, I can't wait to see my purses,,,,,I Love You!