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I May Have a Problem

February 8, 2011

I was running late this morning. The TV was on in the background as I shuffled around getting ready to leave for work, and, as is too often the case, it was tuned to the Maury Show. I was just about ready to leave as the story of a troubled married couple was being told, they were there to learn if their two kids were in fact their two kids, and not simply her two kids.

Seems that about a month after they got married she cheated on him, then a couple of years later she cheated again. There was lots of crying and hugging, the guy was EXTRAORDINARILY forgiving and wanted nothing more than to have his wife back. She professed her devotion, he wept with his head down, it was very moving, but the real question was could they survive as a couple if he was not the father of their children. By now I was far along the way to being very late to work when—COMMERCIAL. Son of a bitch!

Here’s where the problem comes in. Instead of leaving right away, which would still have got me to work late, I lay back and waited through the break to find out if this marriage could be saved. After too many commercials and a too long re-cap it was revealed, amazingly, that BOTH kids were his. I totally didn’t see that coming, just as my employers didn’t see me coming. Well the story happily concluded I hustled off to work. But it can’t be a good thing that I am staying home watching Maury instead of going to my job.

Or is it?

4 Comments leave one →
  1. jco permalink
    February 8, 2011 12:15 pm

    You can solve your problem very easily, with Tivo, or a cable DVR. If your problem is getting to work late, that is.

  2. February 8, 2011 2:13 pm

    I think the only person who can answer this is…Maury. Go on his show with the topic being, “The Maury Show is Making Me Late For Work.” It couldn’t hurt to try.

    • jco permalink
      February 8, 2011 3:54 pm

      A brilliant suggestion. Do it!

  3. Fat Al permalink*
    February 8, 2011 9:48 pm

    I’m going with: this is a good thing, and you’re taking entirely the wrong lesson from this experience.

    Sit your anonymous ass on your anonymous couch, eat some anonymous nachos, and enjoy you some anonymous Maury. Fuck work.

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