Lost and Found Bitterness

One half of all socks go here, but my lost stuff…somewhere else.

Gather around bitter people.  I want to tell you a myth, which is a greek word meaning “stories about stuff that didn’t really happen but is supposed to teach us a lesson”.  Myths teach us lessons about weakness (Achilles Heel), about not turning to stone by looking at a crazy lady with snakes for hair, and not flying too close to the sun with wax wings.  Let’s talk about one of these myths.  The Lost and Found.  There is no such thing.  The only thing that exists is the Lost.

Nowadays, they use these to hide their steriods, but back then we used them to catch baseballs.

I learned this the hard way when I was the tender young age of 7.  I was living in New York and for my 7th birthday, I recieved one of those gifts you never forget as a kid.  It was my first baseball mitt.  I remember feeling the hard leather of the mitt, and stretching it out like my dad told me, by putting linseed oil on it, then putting a ball in it and putting it under something heavy like my bed every night.  Then in the morning smelling the linseed oil as it became a part of the mitt and the mitt became a part of me.  And then it was lost.  It was like my hand had been removed.  I checked outside and it was nowhere to be found.  I made my parents take me to every store, every baseball field we had ever been and I asked every “lost and found” if someone turned in my mitt.  Nope.  Still to this day, I know that someone turned in the mitt and the guy in lost and found kept it.  I wish nothing but bitterness on that guy.  I hope he had a dream of making it to the Major Leagues and somehow made it to AAA baseball, was about to be called up, got injured horrifically, tried PED’s and got banned from baseball for life and now works at Champs trying unsucessfully to sell baseball mitts to kids.

I hope you were stuck at the top of this roller coaster for the last 20 years, dude in the Lost and Found that stole my wallet.

Another time, I was on my senior trip.  I decided that I wanted to go to Cincinnati because I loved the Cincinnati Reds, but also because they had an awesome amusement park called King’s Island.  I saved up all my money, the most cash I had ever had at one time in my life (to this day I might add) probably $160 and we went to the amusement park.  I had my wallet securely placed in my back pocket where no one could easily steal it, and went on ride after ride that no one else in my family wanted to go on.  Then I went on a ride that splashed you and got you semi wet.  After I got off I reached for my back pocket to check on my wealth and my wallet was gone.  Not only did it have all my money, but it had pocket sized senior pictures I had somehow scammed from the hot girls I graduated with.  My dreams of buying useless souvenirs and bragging to my friends about hot girls were gone, all because some dude at the King’s Island lost and found, stole my wallet.  I hope that he decided to sneak in the park after hours, to ride one of the highest roller coasters and it got stuck at the top and he is still sitting there, 20 years later screaming to anyone who can hear, “I’m sorry I stole Bitter Ben’s wallet!”.  Apology not accepted.

I hope you were transported inside the Game Boy Color and were the only thing in black and white, Flight Attendant who stole my Game Boy Color.

Another bitter time, I was on an airplane. As you know, taking a two hour flight on an airplane is excruciatingly boring without electronics.  Luckily I was fortunate enough to have a Game Boy Color to pass the time.  It was so cool because way back then, so few things had color.  Anyway, because I had to multitask, and pick two bags at the same time, I got confused and forgot to get my Game Boy Color out of the Skymall pouch.  I immediately called lost and found to ask if they had found it.  In the background I could clearly hear them playing it and they said, “Nope nothing here.  By the way, do you know how to get past the fire level?” I hope the flight attendant who was playing my Game Boy Color when on the phone with me, somehow got sucked into a portal that transported her into the Game Boy Color and she is the only character that is in black and white.  I hope her character gets maimed everyday until she is just a single broken pixel that makes someone throw that Game Boy away because it is too expensive to fix.

So as you can tell by my three bitter experiences, no lost and found can be trusted. They exist only so that other people can legally steal things from me and make me bitter.

Arrrrrggghhhh

Bitter “Lost” Ben

In a programming note, I will again be featured on a podcast this Sunday night.  Same one, this time reading my post about “Bitter Meetings”.  Tune in this Sunday and listen to me use my famous monotone voice.  http://www.blogtalkradio.com/authorsglobalradionetwork

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