What were you doing around two o’clock this afternoon?
I was in a car with two other people, on our way out of the office, headed to lunch. Since I wasn’t driving and the conversation was kind of boring, I glanced down at my phone to briefly check Twitter and saw the most obnoxious Tweet imaginable:
Had I checked before I stepped into the other person’s car, I would’ve had enough time to take my own car to South Beach and find a large black man with a scary beard. But, because I was five minutes slow on my Twittering, I was, instead, en route to the food court at the mall, where there was zero percent chance that anybody was giving out free tickets to the Heat game. Don’t worry. Not like I was waiting for something like this for a week already. How is my luck so unbelievably terrible?
Whatever. Secretly, I like to think Shaq only played this game because he saw what I wrote, didn’t think it was enough, and was trying to force me to earn the tickets. Or he just really likes random people touching him. Either way…
Operation: Please Shaq Acknowledge My Existence… FAILURE.
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