The Spiked Drink Testing Wand

JAMES HAMBLIN

Are you constantly worried that someone is trying to incapacitate you? And you wish there was some way to carry with you at all time a device that "resemeble[s] a straw or stirrer" that you could dip in your drink periodically to test for drugs? And it would "light up or a part of it will rotate or maybe it will send a message to your cell phone" if something is afoot? 

Did your great idea testing rod rotate as you read this?

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Narci$$u$

A study published in Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin found that people with narcissistic personalities were 50% more successful at pitching movies than people without. On paper, the pitches weren’t any better. The theory is that people who’ve convinced themselves they’re creative and their ideas are great end up being the best at convincing others of the same. "Self-promotion is a valuable skill, but it benefits everyone to realize how much it can distort perceptions of quality."

In no way does this explain why my standard pitch closer, "please, please, oh Jesus please, I’m drowning in failure," has met with so much success. 

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The Perfect Place

“I hope this doesn’t alarm you,” said the realtor, “but there is something I haven’t told you about this apartment.”

Alarm me? How bad could it be? The place was perfect - dishwasher, ceiling fans, in-unit washer/dryer, all granite, what’s not to like? “Well, there’s something I haven’t told you about this apartment. It’s that I love it, and I’ll take it.”

“I’m glad you’re so enthusiastic, but you really should hear this --”

I put my hands over my ears and smiled. “Just give me the fucking contract.”

She looked at me and paused, then began to mouth some words, so I closed my eyes and started spinning around. Eventually I lost consciousness.

I awoke to a stinging smack across my face and yelling of my name. She’d apparently poured cold water on my head, and some of it was in my mouth. I spit it out like a fountain as I sat up, for drama.

“Who are you?” I asked, as if in a daze. But I sort of laughed after I said it

“Nice try. The thing you need to know about the apartment is --”

“I love you.” I was looking at the ceiling fan in her glasses.

“What?”

“You heard me, you crazy old hag, I love you. Marry me. Marry me now.”

That did it. She started smiling and saying some different stuff, and I went back to thinking about the granite and how nice it would be. No one was going to ruin this apartment for me. It was perfect.


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