Hey, it's Valentine's Day!
Happy VD (hey, that's kinda funny. I wonder how many people get VD on VD...okay that's just gross.) to all of you who like the idea of Valentines Day. And to those of you haters when it comes to all things cupid: it's just a day like any other on the calendar. Yes, it's nice to get cards and flowers and all that crap, but it's just as nice to get all those thing on May 2. Or July 12. Or November 29.
So while most people are 100% loving everything there is to love about a day of love, I thought I'd share something I am NOT loving about today:
The geeky photo dude at CVS knowing my name.
A week ago I dropped off a recently-found disposable camera we had found when cleaning out a bookcase. For shits and giggles I brought the camera to be developed, just to see what could possible be on it. Then I forgot about it (again). The nice automated CVS photo voice left me a message that my pictures were ready. On my errand run today I stopped into CVS to get cards, more makeup that I don't need and the pictures. Unsurprisingly, my arms full of goodies, I was going to totally forget to pick up the pictures. Nerdy photo lab guy (decked out in a lab coat. I mean, really? a lab coat? with your name on it?) calls out, "Are you all set?"
Seeing him immediately reminds me of the photos, and I say, laughing at myself, "OH! Yes! And I totally need to pick up pictures. Thanks for reminding me."
And he says, "KK, right?"
I totally act cool and say, "That's me" instead of freaking out that this kid knew who I was. This guy could be some crazed serial killer who targets women through their photos and learns all about their lives.
Did he know my name because he has a fondness for Yours Truly?
Did he remember me because no one in this day and age of digital everything drops off a disposable camera that has FILM in it?
I'm thinking the latter.
So after all this you're probably NOT concerned about the psycho photo lab killer and you're curious as to what was on the mystery camera.
Sadly, there were pictures of Francis, our cute little 10 pound dachshund whom we had to give away a few years ago when he started picking fights and torturing Vito for no reason at all. We couldn't stand watching Vito live in fear every day of his life that Francis was going to kill him.
Francis was a cutie, though. And he LOVED me. Loved me so much that it bordered on inappropriate.
I didn't show Vito the pictures, because I didn't want him to have nightmares. As it is, he practically poops himself whenever we mention Francis's name.
(As creepy as photo guy knowing my name was, don't think for a second that I am not wondering how I can get free photo prints out of this.)