I'm not normal. Not to weird either.
Comparatively speaking, I try not adhere to social norms or do what's expected in any given situation.
I constantly bring up inappropriate things, not usually in mixed company, but sometimes. Like at my birthday when I was talking about those bummy folks that walked underneath I-5 to run a train on the woman who followed them back there.
However, there are some places that are sacred. The Men's public restrooms being one them.
You don't make eye contact with anyone in there, and you certainly don't talk to them unless certain that you know the only other person in the room.
This "gentleman" in the stall next to mine was making that ever so soft shushushshush repetitive noise. This has been going on at varying speeds for the past couple minutes.
As I see it there are three options:
1. jacking off
2. rubbing blood/another bio-hazardous material out of his clothing
3. wiping poo physically back into his butthole.
Right now I'm hearing someone come into the restroom from my stall and I need to leave so that I'm not confused as to being the one who is masturbating.
I'm going to give him the, "WTF is going on in there?" look on my way out, but not talk...never talk.
9.07.2011
Hang on, I forgot my black face in the car.
Working at Fred Meyer granted me the distinguished pleasure of observing and in rare cases interacting with some strange human beings. I say rare because after they were on my crazy radar I would just walk the other way when I spotted them. Most of these people would be in the store every night, often for three or more hours at a time. These people weren't homeless in the stinky or dirty sense but they didn't really appear as if they had any place they called home, except the Lake City Fred Meyer.
There was an middle aged, over weight woman that would sit in the display furniture for five plus hours, reading the first 30 pages of about 50 books she had taken off the shelves. I often wonder why the hell she didn't just poach at the library?
There was a blind disabled gentleman that would buzz around in his wheel chair asking me to read the instructional information off products and bend steel bars on his chair to secure his grocery bags. Never nice about it, he always made you feel like you were his servant.
Like moths to a flame these ilk are drawn to the wobbly clearance racks. A 50% off, hot pink, panther pattered, bean bag chair would look perfect plopped in front of your television and at $6.15 who could resist!?
On this particular day, a regular crazy was sifting through the various wares strewn about the rack. This woman always fooled me because from the back she always looked normal, albeit attractive.
I asked her, "Are you finding everything okay today?"
She turned around and I immediately realized that I had done. Those ugly sunglasses and the crazy caked make-up; I knew I had to get out of there and fast.
She picked up a lime green wash cloth and unfolded it.
"Are these 100% cotton?" She asked while stretching out the tag like it was some the embroidered text was going to grow three font sizes larger.
"I don't know," I said as I quickly thought of a plan to escape.
"Well if they are, this is a great deal! Didn't you hear? The cotton fields are burning to the ground," she declared.
Now when she said this, I was intrigued. Was this somehow true or was she just talking crazier than her poorly stenciled eyebrows? I decided the later made more sense and I smiled to myself saying, "I hadn't heard that. Will you excuse me?" With that I slinked off out her line of sight.
Her comment of the cotton fields burning humorously resonated with me though as if she was comparing cotton to a precious metal that was no longer found in the soil.
I had to share this with a co-worker.
So I was sorting through the return carts when my manager walked up and smiled at me. Without hesitation I looked her straight in the eye and with that 'I am sorry but your son has cancer' tone said, "Did you hear? The cotton fields are burning." As the -ing came out of my mouth I realized exactly what I had done.
"What?!" she said.
"Oh, no...I'm sorry I didn't mean to.."
"You can't say things like that to black people," she smiled at me. Obviously seeing how uncomfortable I became after I had realized what I'd done.
So if you didn't know, I'm a terrible person and a racist.
You've been warned.
There was an middle aged, over weight woman that would sit in the display furniture for five plus hours, reading the first 30 pages of about 50 books she had taken off the shelves. I often wonder why the hell she didn't just poach at the library?
There was a blind disabled gentleman that would buzz around in his wheel chair asking me to read the instructional information off products and bend steel bars on his chair to secure his grocery bags. Never nice about it, he always made you feel like you were his servant.
Like moths to a flame these ilk are drawn to the wobbly clearance racks. A 50% off, hot pink, panther pattered, bean bag chair would look perfect plopped in front of your television and at $6.15 who could resist!?
On this particular day, a regular crazy was sifting through the various wares strewn about the rack. This woman always fooled me because from the back she always looked normal, albeit attractive.
I asked her, "Are you finding everything okay today?"
She turned around and I immediately realized that I had done. Those ugly sunglasses and the crazy caked make-up; I knew I had to get out of there and fast.
She picked up a lime green wash cloth and unfolded it.
"Are these 100% cotton?" She asked while stretching out the tag like it was some the embroidered text was going to grow three font sizes larger.
"I don't know," I said as I quickly thought of a plan to escape.
"Well if they are, this is a great deal! Didn't you hear? The cotton fields are burning to the ground," she declared.
Now when she said this, I was intrigued. Was this somehow true or was she just talking crazier than her poorly stenciled eyebrows? I decided the later made more sense and I smiled to myself saying, "I hadn't heard that. Will you excuse me?" With that I slinked off out her line of sight.
Her comment of the cotton fields burning humorously resonated with me though as if she was comparing cotton to a precious metal that was no longer found in the soil.
I had to share this with a co-worker.
So I was sorting through the return carts when my manager walked up and smiled at me. Without hesitation I looked her straight in the eye and with that 'I am sorry but your son has cancer' tone said, "Did you hear? The cotton fields are burning." As the -ing came out of my mouth I realized exactly what I had done.
"What?!" she said.
"Oh, no...I'm sorry I didn't mean to.."
"You can't say things like that to black people," she smiled at me. Obviously seeing how uncomfortable I became after I had realized what I'd done.
So if you didn't know, I'm a terrible person and a racist.
You've been warned.
9.03.2011
Attached is My CV for Your Sexual Consideration or My One Week Affair with Online Dating
I'm rarely optimistic, but for some reason when I created my Okcupid.com(OKC) account I thought, "Hey this might actually work out in my favor. Hell, I know and have met couples that have actually gotten married after initially meeting online."
So I crafted a profile. Careful not to leave out some key elements like my enjoyment of video games. I know this can be the Kryptonite for some girls but I'm not interested in compromising with some girl over hobbies if she's going to be intolerant of mine. I waved my freak flag proudly, I wasn't interested in just getting laid.
I searched through the matches that OKC gave me, looking for that perfectly realistic mate. After a little poking around I found someone; a seemingly unpretentious, normal, educated, cute girl.
From this point I hemmed and hawed about whether or not I was going to actually send her a message. Afraid of rejection certainly, but also apprehensive that this might not be for me. The awkward interaction via text, and, god willing, an even more awkward meeting in person.
I wrote her a message. The message was of medium length, proofread, contained a sort of check list of things that we had in-common and the golden question: "Will you go out on a date with me?"
Coffee, Lunch, Dinner; I left what kind of date up in air and in her court. I hovered for an extended moment over the send button and pressed down on my left mouse button.
I then waited.
I saw that she logged in and out without responding. This frustrated me as we were obviously a good match. The compatibility questions that we had both answered were almost identical, she and I had more than one similar interest. What gives?
In a quest to find answers I stumbled upon "guides" on how to make a profile as well as etiquette sending messages and requesting dates. One of which clearly stated in bold letters, "Don't ask them to meet in person until the third message!" This is not what I did. I assumed that people were on dating sites because they wanted physical dates, not just a forum to message ePeople back and forth like an extension of facebook with more anonymity. These guide writers suggested using the "shotgun approach" when messaging girls, sending messages to as many as possible so that you have many dating options. That's all well and good if you aren't picky or don't really care about a potential long-term relationship but for my purposes it seemed a little trite.
It was obvious that meeting girls online was exactly like looking for jobs online, and looking for jobs online is probably one of the last things I want to spend my time doing next to getting my nuts tapped repeatedly with a melon baller.
Very few people actually care about the you the applicant, it's all about how you present your CV or in the case of OKC, ePersona and how non-creepy or hipsterly clever you are in your profile.
I'm not gonna play that game. I'm a nice, considerate, moderately attractive dude with a retractable beard. I don't need to play that game. What I need is to find some similarly positioned female(minus the beard) that will not play that game with me.
FML.
So I crafted a profile. Careful not to leave out some key elements like my enjoyment of video games. I know this can be the Kryptonite for some girls but I'm not interested in compromising with some girl over hobbies if she's going to be intolerant of mine. I waved my freak flag proudly, I wasn't interested in just getting laid.
I searched through the matches that OKC gave me, looking for that perfectly realistic mate. After a little poking around I found someone; a seemingly unpretentious, normal, educated, cute girl.
From this point I hemmed and hawed about whether or not I was going to actually send her a message. Afraid of rejection certainly, but also apprehensive that this might not be for me. The awkward interaction via text, and, god willing, an even more awkward meeting in person.
I wrote her a message. The message was of medium length, proofread, contained a sort of check list of things that we had in-common and the golden question: "Will you go out on a date with me?"
Coffee, Lunch, Dinner; I left what kind of date up in air and in her court. I hovered for an extended moment over the send button and pressed down on my left mouse button.
I then waited.
I saw that she logged in and out without responding. This frustrated me as we were obviously a good match. The compatibility questions that we had both answered were almost identical, she and I had more than one similar interest. What gives?
In a quest to find answers I stumbled upon "guides" on how to make a profile as well as etiquette sending messages and requesting dates. One of which clearly stated in bold letters, "Don't ask them to meet in person until the third message!" This is not what I did. I assumed that people were on dating sites because they wanted physical dates, not just a forum to message ePeople back and forth like an extension of facebook with more anonymity. These guide writers suggested using the "shotgun approach" when messaging girls, sending messages to as many as possible so that you have many dating options. That's all well and good if you aren't picky or don't really care about a potential long-term relationship but for my purposes it seemed a little trite.
It was obvious that meeting girls online was exactly like looking for jobs online, and looking for jobs online is probably one of the last things I want to spend my time doing next to getting my nuts tapped repeatedly with a melon baller.
Very few people actually care about the you the applicant, it's all about how you present your CV or in the case of OKC, ePersona and how non-creepy or hipsterly clever you are in your profile.
I'm not gonna play that game. I'm a nice, considerate, moderately attractive dude with a retractable beard. I don't need to play that game. What I need is to find some similarly positioned female(minus the beard) that will not play that game with me.
FML.
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