Girl at the beach

A couple lived near the ocean and used to walk the beach a lot. One summer they noticed a girl who was at the beach almost every day. She wasn't unusual, nor was the travel bag she carried, except for one thing; she would approach people who were sitting on the beach, glance around and then speak to them.

Generally, the people would respond negatively and she would wander off. But occasionally someone would nod and there would be a quick exchange of money and something that she carried in her bag.

The couple assumed that she was selling drugs and debated calling the cops, but since they didn't know for sure, they decided to just continue watching her.

After a couple of weeks the wife said, "Honey, have you ever noticed that she only goes up to people with boom boxes and other electronic devices?" He hadn't and said so.

Then she said, "Tomorrow I want you to get a towel and our big radio and go lie out on the beach. Then we can find out what she's really doing."

Well, the plan went off without a hitch and the wife was almost hopping up and down with anticipation when she saw the girl talk to her husband and then leave. The man then walked up the beach and met his wife at the road.

"Well, is she selling drugs?" she asked excitedly. "No, she's not," he said, enjoying this probably more than he should have.

"Well, what is it then? What does she do?" his wife fairly shrieked.

The man grinned and said, "She's a battery salesperson."

"Batteries?" cried the wife.

"Yes!" he replied.

OOOOH! You're gonna dislike me for this - But it will make your day!

"She Sells C Cells by the Seashore!"

Pocket Taser Stun Gun - Is it a Great Gift for the Wife?

Last weekend I saw something at the Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary, and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized Taser. The consequences of the Taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse effects on her assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety.... WAY TOO COOL!

Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two triple-A batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time, I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs. Awesome!!!

Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to wife what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.

Ok, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right?!!!

There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong?

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, Taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water.

Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.

All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5 inches long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference -- pretty cute, really -- and loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries, thinking to myself, "No possible way!"

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best.....

I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as if to say, "Don't do it, master," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad.... I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION!!!

I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, and then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs. The cat was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face.

Note: If you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a Taser, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. A three-second burst would be considered conservative.

A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up, and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they get up there???

My triceps, right thigh, were still burning and twitching. My face felt as if it had been shot up with Novocain and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.

Still in shock