Thursday, November 27, 2014

Fuel. Forever.

I have a friend whom I'll call Tara (well. that's her name). We have known each other for our entire lives because our parents were friends back in 1977 when we were born one-month-and-thirteen-days apart.
And so for approximately 37-and-a-half years we have been teasing eachother, about lots of things but mostly about who is the chubby one. "Can I borrow those pants?" "Sure but they'll probably be super tight because they pretty much fall off of me" and "wanna grab lunch? I KNOW you're hungry" - that kind of stuff.
Tara and I work together. The other day I had logged into a training session in my office that a bunch of people attended together, but I had to be in a meeting in the Conference room. Tara texted me a picture of a bag of trail mix from inside my drawer and asked if she could open it. "Sure, Chubbs, I know it's been several minutes since you last ate" I said. The usual.
And then the most hilarious thing happened. Tara was sitting in my chair, and threw back a handful of my trailmix and...
Well, let me just show you the photos of her reenactment of what happened next:
Chubbs broke my chair.
And I think I will definitely remind her of it as often as possible until we are 77 years old.


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