Deconstructing "The Rainbow Connection."
via gannet, more complete a. afarensis unearthed.
I was just about to climb into the shower this morning when the doorbell buzzer buzzed. Now, I dunno about you, but there are things that I generally do not take into the shower with me, and one of them is my clothes.
The door my doorbell buzzer buzzes for is down two flights of stairs, and I could hear the unmistakable rumble of a UPS truck from the street, so I hit the entry thingy, found my almost-never-used bathrobe, clawed it out from under the bed, slithered into it, grabbed my keys, and--since the delivery guys always wait downstairs--girded my loins (literally) for an embarrassing trot downstairs.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear beyond the corridor fire door than... the cutest delivery guy in the history of delivery guys. Fortyish, British accent, streaky little bangs, eye crinkles, sunglasses, kind of a beaky nose.
The eye crinkles kill me. I would date Satan Himself if he had good eye crinkles.
I stammered some sort of profoundly flustered apology about his perfect timing and he grinned at me and I signed and he went on his way, leaving me foolishly clutching my package, so to speak, with my hair all in disarray and my chubby ankles chilling.
He must be used to it, I'm sure.
But I swear the last time I saw this movie, in ended differently....