There was an article in the Telegraph recently about a non-existent town, Argleton, showing up in Google Maps. Do a search for the town and you get listings for all the normal things like jobs, housing, and dating. With further exploration I even found that photos of buildings and scenic locations in the town are now showing up as well.
Theories abound about how it got there with I suppose the most credible being the one in the article that the phantom town was purposefully placed there by Google to catch copyright violators. 
My personal theory however, and one I much prefer to the credible ones, is that Argleton is a magical place. An enchanted locale that only shows up for just 1 day once every 100 years. It just happens that the day it showed up last time Google was passing through.
I remember we saw Brigadoon at HSHS when I was in I don’t know, 7th or 8th grade. They used to do a hell of a job on their yearly musical, did Holy Spirit, and they bussed in the regional grammar schools (just the upper grades, 7 and 8, maybe 6 – I don’t think 6) to catch a weekday matinee glimpse of the action in the week leading up to the big opening debut.
The ushers were high school girls, which to me at the time, was incredibly hot. You know. Older women. I was like (very much on the inside mind you, I was a real introvert at the time – a phase I was born into) “hubba, hubba.”
So, I’m in the aisle seat at intermission or whatever, and the guy in the row ahead of me asks the usheress, hey I’m thirsty can I go get some water? But something in his tone, clearly he just wants to go f’ing around, and she’s not buying it. She tells him: “Swallow your spit.” Just that sassy. I was like, in love.
But with no beat missed, HE returns brightly: “My mouth’s dry, can I swallow yours?”
Who was that kid? I don’t remember and I don’t think it matters. Because who was that kid?
He was my HERO.
At that point.
Pig that I kind of was.
Thank God I eventually became a feminist. Mental evolving, awww yeah.
Ah to be able to let them roll off the tongue all golden and timely like that. I always wished I could be THAT kid too. Rather than the one that four hours later is replaying the scene in my mind for the 200th time and just then finally getting it all right. Wanting to go back for a do over.
I am still wishing for that rewind button. 🙂
I was going to start a regular feature, “Snappy Comebacks Years After The Fact” but I think the handful of decent candidates are languishing in drafts, oh back around 2007.
Alice, you are a neat chick!! I love this post. But, of course, I liked imagining The Borrowers lived in my house when I was a kid. 🙂
Re: snappy comebacks: My first thought was I would have said, “Only if you’ll pardon my throwing up while you’re there.” Don’t we ALL think of that perfect comeback later? My daughter is amazed that I can give her a witty comeback when she relates an incident from school. But it’s far easier after the “red” clears from your brain, isn’t it? I’m reminded of the scene in You’ve Got Mail regarding “zingers”. I’ve found, especially in the past year due to meeting people online, the ache of regret far outlasts the brief satisfaction of having “bested” someone. I’d rather be bested than “win” at the cost of my compassion for others. So, I can eviscerate you with my tongue…wow. I’d rather realize life isn’t a competition.
dogimo you should dust off those drafts! Sounds like a hit to me. Who hasn’t faced this “oh if I had only thought of that then!” situation? Misery loves company. It could be an ongoing contributory feature where people write in their own situations and belated snappy comebacks (or solicit advice on what they SHOULD have said).
Jamie I think having The Borrowers living under my floorboards would be awesome! As a kid I had gorillas living in my wall and I had to “feed them” plaster through a small hole I progressively made larger much to my parents chagrin. Yes I indeed was a bit of a strange child.