Just got back from break. I went on a Dr. Pepper run (not just so's I'd have an excuse for the wacky mood mentioned in the previous post) and picked up some smokes for Mr. Funny Guy, my Desk Neighbor, while I was at it. I also bought him a cheeseburger and fries. He gave me a twenty dollar bill, and I returned with change, sans shipping and handling charges. He offered to tip me, and I almost accepted, but he's picked me up a few Dr. P's during his store runs and I've never tipped him, so I declined. He was really grateful for the smokes though, as smokers without smokes tend to be once they're in the smokes again, and offered to pay for my travel time with a candy bar instead. It had caramel in it. I accepted.
"I'm trying to go on a diet," he says between bites of greasy french fries. "I want to get down to my original weight."
I wonder for a second much he wants to loose, because he is by no means a fatty man.
"Yep," he continues saying. "8 pounds, 2 ounces."
It took me a second to get it, but then I was hopelessly consumed by the giggles. Original weight. Hehehehehehe.
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