Thanks For Ruining It For Everyone

I saw something really funny the other day. I’m not 100% sure exactly why it was so funny, but it was.

I was behind another vehicle at a drive-up ATM.

Aside: please note, I didn’t say “A. T. M. machine,” which would expand out to “automated teller machine machine” – and that would, doubtless, be a place where you could enter your “PIN number” (that is, your “personal identification number number.”) And no, you don’t put your P. I. Number into an A. T. Machine, but I can’t say just why.

So at this ATM, it wasn’t the driver getting cash… it was a passenger in the back seat. I’m not sure what kind of car it was, but it was a minivan, with a back seat window not set up precisely in a way that would facilitate leaning out to operate an ATM, and they were parked just a tad too far away. So it looked amusing, but probably more, I suspect my brain simply assumes that it would be the driver.

That is, of course, unless it’s Rob, who will back-through a drive-up ATM if the front seat passenger is going to use their card to activate it... another story for another time.

When I see something funny, I naturally want to share it.

My new friend, Vixen Buzzkill, was the most handy person at the moment, so she was the victim of my very dull story.

If you know me, and you think I’m a pretty smart guy, then you should try talking to Vixen. She doesn’t do it on purpose, but she’s so smart that she needs a deer-whistle necklace to keep you from getting the “deer-in-the-headlights” look when listening to her. She’s so smart that her brain is bigger than Rob’s ego. And that’s big.

She patiently listened to my story.

Ever-so-dryly, and without missing a beat, she observed, “I guess that’s why they have the braille on there, huh?”

Yeah, Vixen, way to go.

You just killed a very old joke.

Joke killer.