Coffee Cup Lid
This coffee cup lid simply does not work for me.
Those of you non-coffee drinkers may want get a close look and note the following physical characteristics of the coffee cup lid. Notice that the opening is located on the roof of the lid which I believe is the source of a deep quandary. This calls for an in-depth discussion. So drop everything you are doing. This is important.
Consider the mechanics of events taking place once the coffee drinker tips the cup in order to extract the content. The liquid is channeled to the roof of the lid, flows through the opening, and onto the outside of the cup to be greeted by the law of gravity.
Once the liquid makes its way to the outside, there is no way to revert back to the inside due to the small size of the opening, and the last line of defense before spilling onto the drinker's attire is his/her lower lip. The drinker's lower lip and the lid must be sealed tightly to ensure a safe and smooth transfer from the cup to the destination which is the drinker's mouth, not his/her clothing.
I spill coffee every day. Even at the highest level of concentration and focus while tipping the cup toward my mouth, I still spill coffee 99% of the time. Trust me. I press my lower lip against the lid very very hard. Contrary to what some of you may think, I don't get thrills out of sharing a big wet sloppy kiss with an inanimate object such as a coffee cup lid. Simple things like drinking coffee should not engender this much drama and agony.
So after this guy made his usual snotty comment about my soiled shirt for the umpteenth time, I decided to share this deeply private and personal dilemma with him against my better judgment. My lower lip does not get along with the coffee cup lid, I confided.
"You got a small lower lip. That's why," said so tersely, then he giggled.
Dude, you are 41 years old. I know you try so hard to be a "cool" neighbor to the teenage girls next door, but I haven't heard a girlie giggle like that since my niece was six. And QUIT TALKING WITH YOUR HANDS ALREADY. I know my way to my lips, dork.
Normally, a comment and creepy giggle like that would cause me to wallow in self-consciousness had I been more insecure. The Lord knows how much time I spend comparing how my receding hairline measures up against other men's. While stuck in Southern California traffic jams, my eyes usually scan through drivers and passengers in the cars around me in search of balding men. Hey you in the Mercedes, could you turn your head this way so that I can get a good look at your forehead hairline? Oh yeah, yours has receded more than mine. Thank you for making my day. You are 75? You still made my day.
No, I don't plan on doing the same with people's lower lips. Why? Because my lower lip, ladies and gentlemen, can perform a very special talent which most people haven't seen or even heard of.
My lower lip can weightlift. Look.
No, the picture is not doctored. Email me for a private demonstration if you wish. My small and delicate lower lip can weightlift a pen, up five toothpicks at a time, three Q-tips, toothbrush, and as seen in the photo, a screwdriver.
Ask yourself this. Can your large and roast beef like lower lip do that? I DIDN'T THINK SO.
My lower lip - An embodiment of breathtaking acrobatics, precision, finesse, and grace.