Happy birthday

It just so happens that I, the author of this blog (who is now forever stuck as the "sea waitress"), has birthday the day before Tim's.

I happened to find this gem on my facebook timeline the morning of my birthday.

Step aside Michelangelo. THIS is true art.

So, as to return the favor, I to have drawn something for Tim. Now I know, I know. You're asking, "But what can beat that fabulous drawing we just saw???" Well, that is a valid point. Probably nothing can top the picture of sheer perfection shown above.
But happy birthday anyway, Tim Quievrop...quievroonnn..? quievr-nevermind.  here.

 (actually happy birthday though, Tim)

Something with a Q

Last night checking into the hotel:

"Yes, I'm here checking in with the speedway group"

"Okay, y'all have four rooms. One under Smith, one under Spence, one under Forrester, and one under -- (long, awkward pause) -- something with a Q."

That's how I'm going to introduce myself at parties from now on.

                   

I must say, that was a rather graceful escape for that hotel clerk from that long, awkward pause. I give him credit. Almost always, that long awkward pause ends one of two ways:

1 - They attempt to pronounce my last name.

Well, no, you put more syllables there than there are letters. But I'll be nice and laugh and say "Not quite, but close", the word 'quite' itself being closer than whatever they just said.

2 - They trail off and look away into the distance

> They hope I'll get the hint and save them. Usually I do, asking playfully "Is it a crazy last name starting with a Q?" And they laugh, relieved, thinking that if I didn't say something they may have had to join that monastery high in the Alps and learn how to communicate through sock puppets.

Of course sometimes I don't give them a lifeline (I don't know for sure - maybe that name they're scared to pronounce is 'Hitler'. Or 'Stalin'. Or 'Buttmuncher').

And they trail off, the same way people do when they're like "Oh, my brother had a shirt like that..", finishing in their own minds the thoughts of "it was the one he was wearing the day he got eaten by that water buffalo", or