Powers of Observation

A true story about the powers of observation (or the lack thereof).

A long time ago when I was about 40 years old my then wife and I were on a car trip to Marin County from the Los Angeles area.  We arrived in the San Rafael about 2 to 3 hours early and too early to meet up at my brother’s house.  Both my brother and his wife were still at work so we decided to drop in on my sister-in-law’s workplace.  She worked at the San Rafael civic center which is a big landmark up there, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.  The place looks like a large aquarium or a Buck Rogers space ship; all domes, glass arched atriums, exotic plants indoors, and painted in shades of blue.  Did I say round windows of all sizes that looked like port holes?

We checked in with sis-in-law Norma and decided to explore this lovely if strange civic center until she got off work.  I wandered around for awhile, not caring if I saw the same area again.  I noticed one office in particular that caught my eye because it seemed to have a concentration of hot looking young ladies going in and out or just hanging out in the hall looking down onto the indoor garden and pool.

I passed the same spot several times and the ladies all smiled at me and I smiled back.  Boy!  I must be better looking than I thought.  Finally it was quitting time for Norma so we met up at her office.  On the way out I just had to ask about the hot chicks.

She said, “You know that I work for the probation department, don’t you and those hot chicks are hookers checking in with their parole officers?” Whoops, my mistake.  But it’s not a sin to look is it?  The short skirts and pushup bras should have been the tipoff to me but my mind was elsewhere.  The devil made me do it.  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Question: What do rockhounds have for breakfast?  Answer: bacon agate and thunder eggs.

 

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