Mr Coffee

It was just a little buzz

So, my brother Jim—God love him, and I do too—has this knack for keeping life interesting. Over the 4th of July, Loma and I headed up to Ocean Park for a week, just like last year. It was the kind of trip where you can practically hear patriotic music in the background while you stuff your face with hot dogs.

Anyway, Jim and I spent some time at the Beach Barrons Car Club, where he’s like a VIP member. I’m talking car royalty. The place is a gearhead’s paradise—think of it as a grown-up treehouse with a hoist, a paint room, and even a lawn care setup for the car shows. You know, the essentials for any self-respecting car club.

So there we were, Jim and I, drinking coffee and talking about cars like a couple of caffeinated philosophers. When we decided to head back home, Jim suddenly had a crisis: his coffee cup had vanished. Poof! Gone.

Naturally, we launched a full-blown search operation. Picture two grown men wandering around like car-themed Sherlock Holmes and Watson, checking every surface, retracing our steps, and interrogating thin air. After a solid five minutes of serious detective work, we gave up, defeated by this cursed vanishing act.

We climbed back into the Jeep, and that’s when it happened. Jim looked down—and there it was. The coffee cup, smugly chilling in his front shirt pocket the whole time. I swear to you, it was like the cup was mocking us.

If this kind of thing hasn’t happened to you yet, congratulations, you’re probably too young to be reading this. But if it has, welcome to the club, friend.

We laughed so hard we nearly spilled that dang coffee. And just like that, we had a new story to tell. Life’s better with a little chaos, don’t you think?