Post #19

I need a personal assistant...and not just because it would be cool.

I need one.

I'm on the road again...in a motel room. I'm pretty handy with these places. I know how to get all the lights on (if you think that's a snap you haven't stayed in many of these rooms)...know how to deal with fickle ac units...I can make an actual potable cup of coffee with the packets they leave for you on the bathroom sink.

What I can't do is pack for these trips. I'm just incapable of getting out of the house with everything I need. It's always something...razor, toothbrush, wallet...this morning it's grey socks.

I got a pair of pressed charcoal slacks and some brown socks. I know how it happened. I was wearin' tan britches when I packed yesterday...and packin clothes is just not the kinda thing that's ever gonna get my full attention. In the morning I look at my britches while I'm gettin' a pair of socks...simple. It works well for that day...not so well for the next.

I ended up buck naked from the waist down in a Walmart bathroom in Alabama once because of distracted packing. I had a pair of seersucker pants and had packed some RED boxers...that was a no go. Two things that don't work with seersucker pants...red boxers and going without. I didn't have a choice...I had to find some drawers and I didn't have time to go out and come back. I had a sales pitch to give in an hour. So, thirty minutes later, and thirty minutes before tryin' to sell 100 thousand dollars worth of software, I was standing in a Walmart bathroom puttin' on a fresh pair of boxers.

I gotta go find a pair of socks...pity I don't have somebody to send out for 'em.