I've always had a fickle relationship with my Postman.  It started back during the summer between my 5th and 6th grade years.  I received my first love letter (ok, love may be a bit strong) from John E. who I had the biggest crush on. (we had met at summer camp) The letter arrived smelling of Old Spice, (nice touch) written in poor penmanship (he struggled with cursive) and filled with grammatical errors but I didn't care about any of that. (there's always room for improvement) The only thing that mattered is that John E. sent ME a "love" letter which described his paper route in explicit detail and how he was saving up to buy some Star Wars figures and something special for me. Every day I would wait on my stoop for Bob the mailman to deliver my next letter from my future Prom date. "Did I get a letter?" "Sorry, kiddo." "Are you sure?"  (he lost patience with this daily dialogue after a week) "Yes, I'm sure, maybe you should move on and find another boy." (Really?? you're giving me love advice, don't you still live with your mother??) "Ok, thanks."

I've been known to have a few quirky habits (I like to refer to them as eccentric and mysterious) when it comes to certain daily activities.

I'm guilty of indulging in some "easy listening" music from time to time while driving around the Twin Cities. It prevents me from engaging in road rage when I'm cut off by some dude who's not familiar with how to use a blinker. (Michael Buble has saved me A LOT in insurance money) So to my chagrin, my Lionel Richie was replaced with Perry Como a couple of weeks ago. (wtf?!, did I miss something, ie. Thanksgiving)  What happened to Thanksgiving??  I need my transitional holiday.  I can't go from consuming copious amounts of Halloween candy (is it really snack size when you eat four at a time?) to downing eggnog with every meal. (it has eggs in it, of course I drink at breakfast) 

I was out with my girlfriends last week for Happy Hour (ok, hours) and we were discussing politics, religion, global warming and hyperinflation, (translation, Hollywood gossip, Christmas shopping, the weather and the best sales in town) when a brazen boy came up and asked "How are you ladies fairing this fine evening?"  "Great, thanks, do you work here?"  That took him off his game. (I can be cruel) He stumbled a bit and then got back on his horse and asked if we would like to join his friends for a drink.  "Thank you but we're having a girls night out." This interaction of course lead to a new topic of discussion, the worse lines we've ever heard. Here are just a few we've been subjected to.