I handed the grocery store clerk my winning lottery ticket, barely containing my excitement at the prospect of being $40 million richer.
He examined it carefully, and handed it back. “I’m sorry, sir. That card’s no good,” he said. “You see, the colors aren’t exactly right … and the card itself isn’t quite thick enough.”
“But my girlfriend gave it to me this morning. It’s got today’s date.”
He smiled. “Which is…?”
“April first – oh.”
I could imagine her, sitting poolside, enjoying a margarita. She loves my strawberry margaritas. I smiled and asked, “Where do you keep your Tabasco sauce?”
He examined it carefully, and handed it back. “I’m sorry, sir. That card’s no good,” he said. “You see, the colors aren’t exactly right … and the card itself isn’t quite thick enough.”
“But my girlfriend gave it to me this morning. It’s got today’s date.”
He smiled. “Which is…?”
“April first – oh.”
I could imagine her, sitting poolside, enjoying a margarita. She loves my strawberry margaritas. I smiled and asked, “Where do you keep your Tabasco sauce?”
