I was walking with a teacher, some kind of guru or Mr. Miagi type. He was carrying a cactus fruit, like a Nopale but with the longer thorns. His fingers were positioned carefully, avoiding the large spikes.
I asked him if this variety had similar micro-spikes, which I dreaded. He said something evasive, which made me decide to find out for myself. If he could pick one up, why couldn't I?
I picked one up and after a minute I looked at my hand. It was covered with tiny hairlike needles, like a field of miniature wheat. I tried removing them, but as per my experience, they all started breaking off at the skin level, leaving me with a thousand splinters under my skin.
Next, I was in the parts department of my favorite dream car dealership, you guessed it, Yuba City Honda. I needed a battery for some reason for a brand new Accord. I was attempting to get the parts guy to order one for me, but he turned it around on me and asked me to order it myself. I began my mild protest but decided it was better if I just went along with the idea. How hard could it be? I struggled for a while with the catalog and then a telemarketer called and woke me up from my dream.
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.