The Larry David Contest

Posted by Maximum Fun on 1st November 2006

Oh man, we got some great stories in response to our challenge — tell us your most Larry David-esque true tale, and win a copy of “Curb Your Enthusiasm: The Book.”

Mine would be a combination of two experiences, each happening at the same local restaurant, in the same bathroom.

It was tough to choose two winners, but here they are. Feel free to add further stories in the comments.

Keith writes:

“This particular restaurant employs (if that’s the correct word) attendants who stand conspicuously in the bathroom, offering a selection of colognes and sundries to folks like me who are simply looking for a place to pee. The most manipulative part is that they remove the paper towels so the guy has to hand you one, provided you actually wash your hands, and you end up drying your hands directly over his tip bowl. Now, I’m all for giving gratuities, but not to a guy who steals the paper towels and then offers me one!

The first time there, knowing the guy was standing only a few feet away and waiting for me to finish, I succumbed to what my mom refers to as “shy bladder syndrome” (I call it “stage fright”) and just couldn’t produce. I returned to my table, bladder bursting, and told my wife I’d be right back. She looked at me quizzically as I walked out of the restaurant and across the street to find a less daunting restroom.

A few months later, we returned to the restaurant. Remembering the previous situation, I hatched a plan.

I went to the bathroom and was relieved (pun intended) that the same attendant chose to wait outside this time. Of course he returned in time to hand me a paper towel but, when he did, I pulled a cloth table napkin from my back pocket, smiled brightly and said, “Thanks, I got it covered!” and dried my hands.

Since I do believe in gratuities and I know he needs to make a living, I dropped a couple of dollars in his tip bowl. My terms, my tip.”

An anonymous listener writes:

Shortly after I was hired a bunch of little meetings scattered throughout the day were set up. They turned out, as meetings tend to, dragging on for hours. I soon realized that I was going to need to call a series of meetings, but I wanted to distinguish them from regular meetings by being short and staying on track.

I work in a cube farm and the cubicles are sectioned off in pods. I decided that I should call them powwows. It was a brilliant idea, powwows in the pod. It just just rolled off the tongue. I went around and started asking everyone if they could make it to the powwow.

Then, it happened. I asked the colleague with American-Indian heritage if she could make it to the powwow. There was an awkward pause while I realized that the term powwow was the wrong term. I tried to back peddle for 10 minutes, but that made matters worse. The backpedaling made it look like I intentionally went out of my way to be mean. I got the evil eye of evil eyes.

Later on that very day, I used the phrase “I didn’t mean to steal your thunder” and got the same stink eye intensified by 10X. I had never thought of “stealing your thunder” as an American-Indian saying, but apparently it is. When I think about it makes total sense, but it never occurred to me. I so thought I was going to get fired for some discrimination issue. Luckily, HR never called.

Now I call them meetings just like everybody else.”