The bubble, she lingers
Joke opportunities are like bubbles, lingering in the air, waiting to be popped by a jokester. You can just hear something and say, “There’s got to be a joke in there somewhere.” You can tell it’s just ripe to be twisted. That’s the bubble.
When I was younger, my dad would always say that. “There’s a joke in there somewhere.” Then it became just a look up toward the sky and a snapping of the fingers, like you’re trying to remember an old classmate’s name. And it’s always a race to see who can bust the bubble first.
I remember one particular example of this. My dad and I were going through security at the airport, when he pointed at a sign that read, “PLEASE REMOVE YOUR LAPTOP AND PLACE ON BELT.” Gesturing toward it, he snapped his fingers, looking at me.
The race was on.
I quickly said: “Please remove your belt so we can see your laptop?”
My dad shouted, “Yes! There it is! Dammit!” And I’m sure everyone else in line thought he spotted a terrorist or something.