The Razor Blade Story

So yesterday morning I woke up a little crispy with a medical need for coffee.

Blurry eyed, I drove to Stop & Shop. I bought some of those razor blades from the future that are so expensive and important they require a special bullet-proof tamper-resistant unbreakable plastic case which also has a wireless radio alarm built into it.

I'm not making this up!

I guess people must steal these blades a lot for them to go to such extremes, but it seems a bit ridiculous to me.  
I mean, it's a pack of razor blades, not the Hope Diamond. But it's in this special museum display box.

Anyways, I go up to the Dunking Donuts inside Stop and shop and I order 3 giant iced coffees and 3 bagels.

I needed this coffee very badly because we drank like the wind the night before.

The lady behind the counter was from some miserable country and could not speak English, but I was able to communicate, that I wanted the 3 bagels and 3 giant iced coffees using  a series of elaborate hand signals, slow motion pronunciations and a bit of rumba dancing.

I also inquired about purchasing the million dollar space age razor blades there at the Dunkin Donuts vestibule. 
She made some noise like a lama choking on a golf ball and took my money.

My head was throbbing like a carnival ride as I tried to juggle the bag and the coffees on the way back to my van.

I got home somehow without spilling anything. (A miracle)

Now I opened the bag to discover that she only gave me one bagel, not three. I clearly told her by pointing with three fingers and doing the Watusi, that I wanted 3 bagels, but alas, there was only one bagel in the bag.

I gave the bagel to my son and began inhaling the gigantic coffee.

Then I noticed that the futuristic interplanetary razor blades were still in their bullet-proof radio protected viewing shrine. Juanita had failed to remove the anti-theft see-through safe these razor blades came in.

So I grabbed a large flat-headed screw driver and attempted to pry the case open.

It was not possible.

It could not be done.

God knows, I tried, but It could not be done.

I started chopping at it like OJ Simpson and I almost cut my fingers off. I needed those fingers too. 

How else was I gonna make signals the next time I needed coffee?

Finally I gave up. This wasn't helping my throbbing head at all.

I would not be shaving on this day.

I considered going back to Stop & Shop, but my wife told me they were closed for renovations.

I decided to keep the blades in their impenetrable bio-dome as a piece of art for my home.

Then my brother came over.

I showed him the beautiful blades from Mars in their fabulous viewing case.

He said he could get it to open. 

"Put it in a vice and hit it with a ball peen hammer," he said, "Maybe try a hack saw."

Then he said, "Give it me me. I'll JUMP ON IT!"

So he took it outside on the patio, and began jumping on the tiny museum case.

He's a big dude and he was jumping up and down on it like Wrestle mania, but it wouldn't break!

"This God-damned thing won't break," he yelled, and he was all out of breath and sweating from jumping on it like a gorilla.

"Gimme a brick! Gimme a boulder! I'll get the God-damned thing open!"

So he grabbed a big rock from the garden and started slammin' it and grunting like a cave man. 

He was mad now. "What's this made out of? Kryptonite?"

Finally after about ten or twelve good whacks it broke open, and the blades fell out and there was this weird radio device inside!

Somewhere miles away alarms were probably going off. Flashing lights at the Gillette factory, the blade police were jumping on their motorcycles...I don't know...but no razor cops showed up, so I guess he must have shattered the homing device.

That's the end of the story. I gotta go shave now.