Finding Rob Dyrdek – The Miracle Magnet


I am a Miracle Magnet. It’s just the damn truth. I don’t even introduce myself to tables with my name anymore, now it is, “Hi, I am the Miracle Magnet. Would you like to start off with a nice cold margarita or some spinach dip?” You would be amazed at how many people even listen to anything you say if they are reading a menu. I could probably say, “Hi, I have a penis and would you like to dip it in ranch before ordering?” I PROMISE you at least half would say yes or no, still looking at the menu, or at their kid climbing the back of the booth, the mother usually interrupting your name to rattle off the drink order. It amuses me. Anyways, I had so many miracles happen yesterday it was insane, like when I got to work, my partner was puking in the parking lot. That my friends, meant I made serious dough, having to take all her tables while she wandered the parking lot with a tea pitcher, still on whatever it was she took last night. I went into Office Max, to buy a wall calendar, because even Miracle Magnets need organization skills. Organized people probably make loud screaming noises with their eyes rolling in the back of their heads just walking in that place. I have never in my life seen more post it note possibilities in my life. You can highlight and post now, with post its in shapes of pots and pans if you want, to post it calendars, for erasable post it notes if you want to keep that shit fresh. You can post a post it! When Jerry approached me for help, I was already irritable, not knowing which of the 40 billion calendars on a needed day, could save my life. He was probably in his forties, with extremely white teeth, either from having really good hygiene or being addicted to White Strips, but he had this big grin, annoying energy, like he were about to bounce around Office Max in song, like he were on a Broadway stage. Perhaps paper clips excite him.
He began with, “Hi there. My name is Jerry and I am in a Divorce Recovery Program where my therapist has instructed me to flirt with two married woman and three single each week.” I think my silence deafened even myself as I stared at him, wondering if I should laugh my ass off or leave with him in the fetal position, weeping for his mama. I decided to just be impulsive, like that would be anything new. “No you didn’t.” I said, bored. He started to stutter something else about having kids and searching for love, amused that I did not think he was amusing, which irritated me. Finally, I smacked my calendar on the ground and said, “Listen Jerry, I think that is by far on the scale of 32 years of living, the worst pick up line I have ever heard.”
His reply was, wait for this, “I like my coffee half and half.” I took a deep breath, told him to wait for me in the envelope aisle in the back so I could shop, grabbed some pens, heading straight to the check out line where a cute little teenage boy was waiting. “Thanks for shopping Office Max and Jerry wanted me to give you this.” He handed me a business card and looked away, his face red. I looked at his name tag. “Listen, Randy. The thing about Jerry is that he doesn’t know the only worse thing than men that have game are men that don’t and think they do.” He smiled. I thanked him, about to walk out when he yelled, holding Jerry’s card in the air. “Hey, Miss. We have shredders on aisle ten.” We laughed. Telling this story to Divorcee and Baby Bro as I walked in, Kat interrupted. She put her hands on her hips. “Why did you not tell this man that he is nothing like the man you really want!” Her little face serious and exasperated. Hands on her hips, she said, “Next time this happens, you just say you are waiting on a man named Rob.” God, she is a child genius. We have began our calculated plan of events, and she has decided to be my Black Mike, my bodyguard and financial manager, which is hilarious, being she is four feet, but not, cause she really could put the fear of God into anyone I think, if they crossed someone she loves. She has been handling my money too, plus she has been passionate as me, working on her role, coming up with some hilarious ideas.
Hey Jerry. You are a douchebag. If you want to touch my mind, my heart, my soul, and much less my body, you need to know I am only into someone like this………….

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