The Pogo Stick Saga of 2014

My daughter wanted a pogo-stick for Christmas.  So, as the dutiful father I scoured the Thanksgiving weekend  ads and found one for sale.  We were visiting my in-laws in Pocatello, Idaho and once I found one for sale I cajoled my father-in-law into going shopping with me.

We dutifully drove to the rundown Kmart on the North end of town, found our prize, and moved to the checkout counter.

Would I like to buy a year warranty for $3?

Well, my kids are going to beat this thing to death, and if any part breaks for any reason in the next year they’ll give me a new one.  SOUNDS GREAT!

The pogo stick box was way too long to fit in a single bag so they teller put one bag on the top, another on the bottom, and I slipped the receipt in the bag and walked out with my prize.

WHAM!  Gale force winds slammed against me as I sprinted into the parking lot trying to keep the pogo stick from flying out of my hands.  The bag on top went flying off into the air, then the wind struck the pogo stick and sent it toppling out of the bag on bottom.  I bent down to pick up my daughters Christmas gift and saw the receipt fly out of the bag and skid across the parking lot. 

THAT RECEIPT HAD MY $3 INSURANCE VERIFICATION!

I secured the pogo stick under one arm and started running after the receipt.  Just as I was about to step on it the wind whisked it out from under my foot.  I started doing a Charlie Chaplin imitation as I slammed my feet over and over again onto the pavement trying to pin down a receipt that kept evading my shoe.  My father in law was doubled over in a full on belly laugh at this point.

I tried at least 12 times to step on the stupid receipt as I chased it all the way across the parking lot until I saw it fly up and over the curb and into the middle of 4 lane traffic. 

The road was VERY busy as it was the biggest shopping weekend of the year.

I watched the receipt flip and float and then land in the gutter on the other side of the street. 

It paused.

Maybe, just maybe I could get to it.  I started to step into traffic and try to sprint across the street when I saw the receipt flip up and over the curb and into the corner of a large stone wall.

It stopped.

The wind was holding it prisoner in the corner.  My prey was trapped!

I ran across the road and just as I stepped over the far curb I panicked as the receipt flipped and flew and blew into the entrance of some large facility.  I looked up and saw that this facility had a large parking lot.  The entrance was foreboding with huge car destroying blockades in the road and a guard house   between the entrance and exit lanes.

The receipt had blown just over one of these metal blockades on the side of the guard house.

The blockade was only about 4 feet high. I could probably hop over really quick and grab the receipt and hop back before the guard ever noticed.

Besides would the guard really care?  This facility couldn’t be THAT worried about security could it?

 I looked at the wall and saw three Big Bold Letters: 

F.B.I.

SERIOUSLY?!  I mean SERIOUSLY?????

What were the chances? My receipt infiltrated the FBI?  COME ON!!

What’s the penalty for hopping the barricade into an FBI facility?  I didn’t really want to find out. 
I saw the receipt start to flip up in the wind and I took the pogo stick out from under my arm and extended it over the barricade and pinned the receipt against the pavement.

 I couldn’t let it blow away. 

Now I was standing just outside the guardhouse at an FBI building with my arms over their barricade holding a receipt against the ground by means of a pogo stick.

By this time my father in law had come and parked in the entrance and was walking towards me.

Just then the guard looked up from her television and saw one man reaching over the barricade while another walked up behind him.

She ran out of the guard house yelling at us and trying to ascertain the seriousness of the situation.

I must have looked ridiculous as I stood, grasping a pogo stick like my life depended on it over the barricade.  

She questioned my about the receipt, about the pogo stick, and about where I had bought it.

AT THE KMART ACROSS THE STREET LADY!!!!

My father-in-law could have been helpful, but instead he just kept laughing and laughing as the guard finally bent down, picked up my windblown and tattered receipt, and handed it to me and let me pull my pogo stick back over the barricade.

My daughter better LOVE this gift.  She has NO IDEA what I went through...