“I Really Need To Orphan Black Myself.”

Or if you prefer, “Thoughts That Floated Around/Through My Head as I Tried to Eat my Pizza in a Corner of the Casino That is Usually Quite Peaceful.”

(Admittedly, titles aren’t my strong suit.)

1.  “Should I tell the wife about the cougar in room 1403 who decided to look cool in front of her Fifty Shades-reading pack by asking me if I wanted to ‘earn “$14 the hard way?'”  (By the way, 1403 wasn’t the actual room number; unemployment doesn’t agree with me, hence the deception.)

2.  “Must remember to watch Caddyshack again soon…”

3.  “As a part-time meth dealer myself, I find the show offensive and inaccurate.”  A fossil senior with a wandering eye spied an article on the last season of Breaking Bad – or as she called it “The Breaking Bad” – in the paper I was trying to read. And so I decided to have some real fun…

4.  “I really need to Orphan Black myself.”  Then I could handle multiple bell calls and write post/guest posts simultaneously. (For the non-nerds among us: Orphan Black is a brilliant sci-fi television show about a woman with multiple clones. You have to admit, government black ops conspiracies aside, it would be pretty convenient to be able to handle multiple crises at once, right?)

5.  “How long?”  The singular thought I couldn’t help but ponder as I began my walk back to the hotel and I spied a little Chinese woman shuffle along, arm-in-arm with her adult grandson. “Little” doesn’t begin to cover it, in fact; this woman was minuscule. She even had the silver hair, the wizened features and the cane to complete the look.

I can only imagine the things she’s seen, the experiences she’s lived through. This woman was a survivor and yet, The Reaper was right on her wrinkled tail, content to wait until the ravages of time prove insurmountable and her time among us reaches its inescapable, inevitable conclusion.

Before you begin to think I’m actually a deep thinker, keep reading…

6.  “Look away… For God’s sake, look away!”  Me, in panic mode as I passed a La Vie en Rose outlet and my glasses began to fog up. “Why, Hook?” you ask? Well, I’ll tell you: there they were, two willowy, blonde damsels – though definitely not in distress – their arms filled with overstuffed shopping bags full of frilly wares.

Did I mention one of them gave the other a little peck on the cheek as they exited the store? And did I also mention said peck quickly developed into a lingering lip lock?

Well, it did.

And so my lunchtime retreat almost ended with a whimper, not a bang – not for me, at least – as I came thisclose to walking into signpost as my attention was diverted for a moment -or ten.

Hey, what can I say? I love my wife, but at the end of the day, I’m still a man.

Enjoy the remains of the day, my friends.