Scene: Driving through South Burlington on Route 7.
She: Dan! There’s a tent sale going on over there!
He: Uh huh.
She: Don’t you want to stop?
He: Why?
She: I thought you said we needed a new tent.
*rimshot*
She’ll be here my whole life! Don’t forget to tip the waitresses.
Just so. We got a whole new batch of fleas today in just the same way.
Watch out for garage sales, too, if you haven’t already got one.
Tell me: if you go by a place that sells bass boats, does she turn her head to look?
At me, yes. With an expression of deep consternation, as though I’d been ogling a toothsome twenty-something.
Two words, Dan: hickory switch.
So many marriages could be saved, if only…
Doesn’t work. No matter how I use mine, I’ve found I’m still unable to turn the hickory either on or off. And there’s no little door to open to replace the battery. I’m guessing Apple made it.
Actually it would be the white sales I’d be most worried about.
Stay away from the Girl Scout cookies and the Hebrew National salami, is my advice.
We avoid yard sales. Now that the gas to run our mower is so expensive, we can barely afford the yard we’ve got.
Where’s this tent sale? We do need a new tent. I don’t care what my wife says about four being enough.