I woke up the day after Thanksgiving with a massive headache.  No, I wasn’t hungover.  No, I wasn’t getting sick.  It’s just the after effects of a very stressful week.  Friends visiting, friends having babies, grandpas in the hospital, the usual.  I also witnessed my best friend give birth to a child, which was at the very least:  horrific. But not as horrifying as it is two days later when the images keep popping into the forefront of your mind.

Then my Thanksgiving consisted of watching my grandma, who is a self-proclaimed Wii bowling champion at her assisted living home, battle it out with my uncle and dad.  Well, she currently has a bad hip and wears frog green polyester pants, and every time she pulled her arm back to release the bowling ball, she let out a fart.   Pretty soon I had to move to the other side of the couch, where my mom and my aunt were having a huge fight about who was going to host Christmas.

[Let me preface the next section by saying that my 99 saturn with duck tape covering a hole in the hood, although esthetically phenomenal, is not an all-terrain vehicle.  More on that later. ]

So I had made my annual plan to go shopping on Black Friday.  But when the morning came I called my girlfriend, who was supposed to accompany me, but she actually was hungover.  And depressed.  So I called Kenny.  Kenny’s always up for shopping.  Well, Kenny was depressed too.  I guess depression rates really do rise around the Holidays.  So after five hours of trudging through crowds of unruly shoppers by myself, I had seven bags on my arm cutting off the circulation to my heart.  After narrowly escaping a heart attack, I went to pick up my yellow Salvation Army chair with Kenny.

So I accidentally wandered into the Salvation Army again last week, and took a liking to a yellow chair, which I asked if i could pick it up later that day.  Of course, five days had passed since that conversation took place.  So Kenny had no choice but to help me.  For over 30 minutes, we were shivering in the parking lot (with several onlookers) having the following conversation:

me:  its GOING to fit

kenny:  no.  no it’s NOT.  how in the world can you think this is going to fit?

me: cus it’s not that big!

kenny: thats what she said.  haha.  ok seriously, yes it IS THAT BIG, because we can’t get it in!

me: thats what she said.  haha. ok, seriously, if we could just take the legs off it would be fine.

kenny: yea, thats a really good idea.  except they are attached.

me: well, lets try it diagonal in the backdoor again.

random guy:  you know, I used to move furniture for a living.  .. do you guys need some help?

Kenny and me:  NO, we’re fine.

random guy:  well, do you mind if i just stand here and watch?  cus this is pretty entertaining.

kenny:  we’re just gonna have to put it in the trunk.

me:  but i won’t be able to close it AT ALL.  isn’t that illegal?  isn’t that a hazard?

kenny:  we’re gonna have to come back then

me:  it’s already been sitting here 5 days, i have to take it.  but how will we tie it down?  I don’t have anything.  Go find some twine.

[kenny goes back inside, comes back after ten minutes, holding what appears to be rope]

me: you are AWESOME!  this is why i love you.   [ I grab the rope and start putting it around the chair] wait, what is this?

kenny:  a telephone cord.

me: A TELEPHONE CORD?  what the?!  how am i supposed to tie anything with a telephone cord?

kenny:  Don’t worry, i got two of them.  and a scarf.

me: So?!#$#

For more of the Kenny Chronicles:

How to Talk Yourself Out of Dating Almost Anyone

A Conversation at Starbucks

A Metrosexual in a Yankees hat

A Bad Gordita and Some Classy Water