it was christmas eve and i was going through my takeout menus trying to find a place that would deliver a meatball sub to me for lunch. i made it to the last menu in the stack and finally found a place that answered the phone:

"happy holidays. is this for pickup or delivery?", the seemingly friendly voice on the other end inquired.

i requested delivery and was then asked for my name.

in most situations when asked for my name i usually go with brad pitt, mr. awesome, or the gold medal finalist in the shoe tying olympics three years running. this time i decided to roll with my full first name and started spelling it for the friendly voice.

"J-O-N-A–"

"i know how to spell jonathan. i’m not stupid," the friendly voice pointed out.

i figured the phone clerk had a right to be a wee bit cranky being that she was working christmas eve and all, so i let it slide.

45 minutes later my buzzer rings and it’s the meatball sandwich delivery guy. and when i say guy, i mean sasketchewan. seriously, the guy was huge. i wouldn’t be surprised if parts of his customers’ orders frequently went missing.

"that’ll be $11.04," he said matter-of-factly.

i reached for my wallet and made the mistake of being friendly.

"how’s your day going?" i asked. "are you guys getting mobbed, it being christmas eve and all?"

he gave a furtive glance around and replied, "not too bad, but i just got a new shipment in."

i didn’t quite understand why a pizza place that made their own pizza would get shipments of pizzas, so i shot him a puzzled look.

he clarified: "i don’t know how best to approach this, but i just got a new shipment of porn dvd’s. they’re all out in my trunk. you wouldn’t happen to be interested would you?"

i didn’t have the heart to tell the guy i was in the middle of filming one at the moment and that the script called for me eating a meatball sandwich and involved no sex whatsoever. instead, i politely declined and took the sandwich from him.

he didn’t seem to know how to exit gracefully and tried once more for a sale.

"i’m just trying to make a buck or two on the side, you know? sorry, i didn’t know how to approach the subject. sorry."

"it’s ok, man," i said and i slowly backed inside.

as i reached the top of the stairs, i almost half expected to open the bag and find my meatball sandwich replaced by a dvd with the same name. it’s a really good thing i didn’t order a meat lover’s stuffed pizza and a tossed salad.

a really, really good thing.

my sister-in-law mentioned the word metrosexual during the course of post-gift-un-wrapping idle chit chat.

my uncle immediately queried: “metrosexual? is that when you have sex while traveling?”

my uncle learned a new word today and the rest of the family got a chance to practice their horrified but not surprised faces.

dear keeper of the winter solstice and purveyor of all things weather-related,

p.s. you used the global warming excuse last time, so let’s try to be a bit more creative.

tonight i was waiting for my train home, since that’s what i do for fun and because flying cars haven’t been invented yet. this girl was sitting next to me with her nose stuck in a book. she looked like she might be kinda cute and people who read books are smart, according to reading rainbow. i started the conversation with my super patented pick-up line, which i probably won’t ever use again.

“so how’s the book?”

she slowly processed what i said. since it was a really tough question, i gave her a few moments to think and when she hadn’t come up with an answer yet i delivered the next bombshell.

“what book is it?”

it had some large text in angry letters on the front and the background was yellow, so i just assumed it was a hot dog recipe book. it clearly was not a romance novel or a nancy drew mystery. as she considered the best way to summarize her book for me, i smiled and decided to help her out.

“is it a girl book?”

she put on angry eyes, scowled and retorted as she turned away.

“i don’t read girl books.”

i filed that away under questions that don’t work and her under girls i don’t like.