August 4, 2012
It was a scene right out of the Princess Diaries. Despite the fact that we weren't in San Francisco and no sixteen year old Genovian heiress in her baby blue mustang was anywhere to be seen, the comparison was inescapable. I would like to think that what actually happened was just as thematically entertaining. My family's scenic trolley broke down right in the middle of a busy San Diego street. NBD, right?
While the driver, Doc, communicated with his supervisor up front, I helped direct traffic around the stationary streetcar. (I was sitting in the back row; it was the least I could do.) The situation was quickly resolved, and a replacement trolley was on its way. However, in the meantime, Doc said, "Anyone know any good jokes?" Some smart aleck, who shall remain nameless, responded, "This."
Okay, so obviously, I was the punk who said that. Surprisingly, my remark was greeted with a great amount of laughter from all the other passengers and Doc himself. Truthfully though, I really didn't mean to say it. The situation was just so in accordance with the joke that is my life that my response was automatic. I'm so used to saying "(insert semi-random and non-normal situation here). That's the joke." that the reverse statement came naturally. Apparently, I really don't think before I speak; I like to be just as surprised as everyone else by what comes out of my mouth.
At any rate, the replacement trolley showed up in about ten minutes and we were back to touring the beautiful city of San Diego. And I, in perhaps my most altruistic act to date, left the comedy to our new driver's scripted, corny, but well-intentioned jokes.
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