There was recently a crazy gunman on the loose in downtown Orlando. My mother called me at 1pm, and asked where I was. I told her that I ran home to grab my laptop but was headed out. Here is how the rest of the conversation went:
Mom: You really should stay home til they apprehend him.
Me: Thanks Mom, but I have something called a job, and last I checked, they're paying my bills so I'm going to risk this one.
Mom: Well, watch out. I hear that he's wearing khaki pants and a polo shirt.
Me: Perfect. That really narrows it down.
It was nice that she called with concern, but my mother is one of those people who is extremely funny without telling a single joke. She literally just named my neighbor Jim, my boss Paul, all of the guys at the Orlando Country Club, and most of Corporate America on a Friday.
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