Here’s the final installment of my Footloose experience.   Friday night, I enjoyed the show but only saw part of it because of Nimble Fingers sitting next to me.  Saturday night I enjoyed the show but only heard part of it because of the verbal barrage behind me.  There was a pattern emerging.

It was The Law of Attraction.  I’m not really bright enough to notice these things by myself, so I need a lot of help.  This help came in the lobby prior to Saturday night’s performance.

I was minding my own business.  Actually I was looking for the texting guy, and minding my own business.  In the middle of this, a friend walked up and asked if I wanted to purchase some raffle tickets.  “Fundraisers,” he said, with a jovial laugh.  My friend is one of the most jovial people I know.  I think that’s why he got the job of selling raffle tickets.  He said that he’s really lousy at selling stuff, but that’s just false modesty because when you’re that jovial, you can pretty much sell anything.  I should have asked him to sell a one-way ticket to my text messaging friend.

Anyway, because he’s so jovial, I bought a lot of tickets from him.  These tickets were for a chance to get a free meal at some restaurants.  I never buy stuff like that.  But that’s the exact point of all this.  I realized that he had The Law of Attraction shooting out from every pore in his body and if we could collaborate, maybe I could finally attract something to me besides debt and dust storms.  So I mentioned it to him.  I told him that I thought I possessed enough of that, “Money, come to me, NOW,” kind of faith to maybe have a winning ticket.  He said that when he went to seminary they taught the folks to have a practical kind of faith, so he would use it on my behalf.  I felt like I might actually win something but with my dyslexic version of The Law of Attraction I would more than likely win a meal from Bob’s Hog-O-Rama, where they glop sausage gravy on everything you order, including dessert.  I don’t want sausage gravy, glopped anywhere, especially on my dessert, but he loved this restaurant.  So he told me that he would get “connected” on my behalf, with his practical faith, and even if my Law of Attraction only won the Hog-O-Rama thing, then he would take it for me.  We thought it sounded like a good plan.

So, off I shuffled.

The big moment came…and went.  They called out numbers that I can only assume, were from another planet; or worse yet, from Stinkhead.  The numbers on my tickets were so far off from what was being called, I couldn’t believe it.  I thought I was at the wrong musical, in the wrong school.  I was thinking that maybe my friend got the wrong roll of tickets.  Maybe he picked up last year’s roll.  The only thing mine had in common with the others was the word “coupon” on the front.  I didn’t look on the back, but I’m sure it said, “Fool! Money, go away from you, NOW!”  It didn’t take long to see there would be no winner here; not even for Bob’s Hog-O-Rama.

After the show, I went to find my friend to let him know he has the same problem with The Law of Attraction as I.  He was nowhere in the building.

But at least he’s jovial.

Questions or comments
Email Frank at:
fparrish@zoominternet.net