I recently realized I’ve been walking around for close to sixty five years with for all intensive purposes tattooed to my flapping lips. No one has ever corrected me, but then again I do have that whole low talker and mumbler thing going on, so it’s highly likely most people never bothered to decipher what I was saying at all. There’s another tactic which is when people in general talk right over me and/or cut me off like a pair of Daisy Dukes.
I’m cringing while reliving some of my infamous misuses. Like no wonder my boss looked at me so strangely when I held up my elbow in a cast and said for all intensive purposes it’s completely shattered.
“Wait a second, you had to stay in intensive care,” he asked?
“Um no they set it in the emergency room and then I went home,” I clarified.
“Well Jeff take as long as you need. Work from home if you need. People on the subways can be real assholes and they’ll bump right into you.”
“I was thinking that for all intensive purposes I’d come in late and leave early to avoid rush hour.”
He gave me another perplexed look as I left his office.
So how did I finally catch onto my misusage of the phrase? I asked a furniture saleswoman if a certain chaise had the intent to purpose or facilitate a nap. Like was it long enough, etc.
Oh certainly. For all intents and purposes you’ll fall asleep on this piece even easier than your own bed. Just don’t watch a movie on it, cuz you’ll never finish!
She was a slower talker like me so she drawled the for all (breath) intents and (breath) purposes phrase out to the point that years of shame rushed and flushed my face. I said thanks and got the hell out of there.
Well as of now I can’t correct anyone on anything ever again. The shame of it all. So thanks people for cutting me off like those Daisy Dukes. You spared me and a decent percentage of the population (like hundreds) more embarrassment.
Hell for all intensive purposes maybe even thousands.
(damn it)
