CLASS act

Holy Jesus on a raft. This afternoon I'm hanging out in the hotel reading while Becky's napping (I gave her away) and I decide I'm gonna get in the car and go across the road to the big CVS (I miss it, it's a Massachusetts thing, but alas, there's no Dunkin' Donuts here) to replace the eyeliner that I brought with me but is essentially a nub. After I've chosen my so-called beauty products, I decide to get us a beer. They don't sell singles, so I decide to make the classy move and buy a 40 for us to share. So in my plastic CVS bag as I'm walking into the hotel lobby are three skinny eyeliners and a freakin' 40 of Miller Lite. I've got the bag on my arm as I'm searching for my hotel key and, well, just GUESS what happens as I walk into the hotel. The bottle falls through the plastic bag and explodes into a hundred pieces. My eyeliners fly. I look up at the woman at the front desk and shamefully apologize. She says, "Oh, it's okay. don't worry about it." I use my foot to sift through the glass to find that which will make me beautiful. The front desk woman tells me not to worry about cleaning up, she's called housekeeping. I say nothing, squat down to look under the furniture for my stuff. I find it, wipe the suds on my pants, and sheepishly make my way up to the room where I proceed to tell the boss that she had a beer coming but it just wasn't meant to be. But won't I look pretty when we go get a real beer tonight.