Shiny and New

Dear Diary,

I was driving through my neighborhood yesterday. It was a beautiful sunny day. The kind of day that people appreciate because the weather has been rather rainy. The kind of day that might inspire one to wash their car and prepare it for the upcoming sunny weekend. This is an activity I am in full support of. Though I will say I was quite surprised to pass a man as he leaned back to grin with pride at his newly washed and shined raper van. You know the kind... no windows and extended in the back. It does NOT matter how clean and shiny that van is. It is still a raper van. It is still pervy. Small children should still run away in the opposite direction. This is a rule I believe this van owner missed. Apparently raper vans do not come with a manual.

You're cheap....whaaaat?

Dear Diary,

Today was a fantastic Saturday. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and it was warm outside. Since the weather was so great, I decided to spend my day doing yard work. I started my morning at a local plant sale to benefit the maintenance of a beautiful park in my neighborhood. It was quite lovely. Then I made a trip to the local sprinkler store.

I needed to replace a sprinkler head and ask a few questions about the repair. The store was surprisingly slow with only a few customers and one employee. I looked around but did not find what I was looking for so I waited for the salesman to finish with his current customer. While this was happening, a woman came into the store with more determination than anyone should have when the weather is so nice. She immediately nabbed the salesman's attention, his full attention, to fill her list. She was a little unsure about some of her list and had to make a call to her landscaper. It is at this point that I begin to observe what she is wearing. She's in two long sleeve shirts, long pants, nylons, and slip on leather loafers. Her entire outfit was black with the exception of her shoes which were red. It is nearly 80 degrees and she's in all black layers for a sprinkler project. Now I am hardly one to judge ones ability to layer in the warm weather but even I am in shorts, two short sleeve shirts and flip flops. It is in this moment that I realize she is NOT at all involved with this landscaping expedition and is likely directing from the inside of her well air conditioned home. It is also about this time that she starts calming ranting to the salesman that her landscaper told her the part was $2 less than the marked price, and that no he does not have an account. She calls her landscaper again. By this time, I am waiting, another man is waiting, and another is lingering in the aisles waiting for the line to shorten. This woman is not leaving until she saves this $2. She's also attempting to sweet talk the salesman by calling him a doll yet she has failed to remember his name in the 60 seconds since he first gave it her. The salesman finally caves and gives her a $1.50 discount which the woman is overjoyed with. She calls him a doll one more time and thankfully did not reach across the counter to kiss him. Out the door she goes. The man waiting in line comments about the woman's audacity and the salesman simply responds that he only gave her the discount to get her out of the store so he could help everyone else waiting! I can't help but giggle and when I finally get to the front of the line, the salesman gives me 10% off for "being patient". I think that was code for "not being a crazy stingy bitch" but I'm just guessing.

In retrospect I really wish I would have followed the woman to the parking lot to confirm my suspicion that the woman was driving either a 7 series BMW, Lexus LS, or Mercedes S Class.

Huffin and Puffin

Dear Diary,

Today I was driving down the street and I see this man on a bike. I won't lie, he wasn't in great shape so it was not all that shocking when he stopped to take a breather. It was not until I got closer to him that I realized he had stopped to light up a cigarette! I wanted to stop my car and tell him the bike riding, that he's ceased doing, will not do much good if he continues to smoke. Then I realized trying to rationalize with a fat man who was trying to ride his bike but had to stop to smoke would likely be a wasted effort so I kept driving. I went to the park and hiked a couple miles to help balance out the weight of the universe.

Oh the horror

Dear Diary,

I recently attended a local festival. I believe the festival focuses on music, art, and beer. By art I mean tattoos. And by beer I mean delicious. I met a group of friends for some delicious beverages and for the fabulous people watching. If you attended this festival without a tattoo or piercing, you would either left with envy or disgust. If you attended this festival without showering, you fit right in.

It goes without saying the line for the restroom inside the bar was quite long. I am not a big fan of waiting for a restroom. If I felt like waiting, I would hold my pee until I got home. Ordinarily I would use the men's restroom but at this particular venue, there was only one uni-sex bathroom to be had. So I ventured outside to find a Porta-potty. Nothing about this thrills me, except I really need to go. And our waiter just returned with my fresh beer which was from the bottom of the keg and was not completely full. So he brought me another beer of my choosing. This makes me incredibly happy. Especially when I later learn I was not charged for either beer. Must love free beer. Back to the Porta-potty.

So I am next in the very short line to use one of two portable facilities. The door slowly opens and this girl in three inch heels, fully done makeup, big hair, and an entirely too preppy outfit for this function steps out, very clearly disgusted by having to use a portable toilet and for having to touch the door to get out. She has a look of horror on her face. The door swings back to slam behind her and she's checking herself over. She's doing this as if she would be able to see the actual germs. When she's done doing this, she spots her friends and starts to walk away. I stop her to say, "You have toilet paper on your shoe." Before I can step on it, she picks up her foot and starts to remove the TP with her hands!!!! I then shriek in horror, "Well don't touch it!" I was mortified! What was worse: the fact that she was too disgusted to touch the door of the bathroom or the fact that she used her hand to remove toilet paper from her shoe which clearly attached itself to her shoe from the floor of the bathroom?

The 80s called, they want their hair back

Dear Diary,

It is no secret that people watching is one of my favorite past times. I enjoy this shameless activity more than so many other activities. I would not go so far as to say it is my favorite, but I would most definitely put it in the top five. The gym is one of the greatest places to watch people, along with the airport, malls, and the grocery store.

The thing about my gym is that there are all walks of life and all ages participating. Hence why it is such a prime location to watch people. I so enjoy watching people but sometimes I can not help but be brazen and get caught. I mean really. REALLY!? You left the house in twenty ten thinking it is 1984?! I am all for an 80s flashback but there are limits. And sometimes it isn't a flashback but a body lost in time. Allow me to explain. Today at the gym I saw what I believe to be a woman with a rat tail. The reason I don't believe it is a flashback is because the rat tail went all the way down her back! The number of years dedicated to this is at least 20! And no I do not believe she cut the rest of her hair in order to achieve this look. The rest of her hair was not capable of growing that long. It was stringy and full of split ends. It is called conditioner.

So while watching this woman pump some iron, I could not help but stare and get caught. I would like to think my eyes and facial expression sent a silent message to her that it was simply not okay to carry the torch of such a nasty hairstyle. Some things were meant to stay in the 80s; the rat tail is one of them.

Chatty Cathy Strikes Again

Dear Diary,

I encountered Chatty Cathy Diet Coke drinker at the gym again. I have successfully avoided her over the past few weeks. However, today I failed in my endeavor and was nearly forced into conversation with her. I believe she would have pursued speaking with me and attempting to distract me from my workout so she could avoid her own, but instead she read my shirt. Much to her dislike she wrinkled her face and gave me the once over before moving on to her next victim. Apparently my shirt which read "Nerds have bigger hard drives" was offensive to her. Carrying in a Diet Coke to quench her thirst at the gym is completely appropriate though.

It's a bird, it's a plane

Dear Diary,

Today while leisurely drinking my morning coffee, I looked out my window and saw a man walking down the street. He was carrying what looked to be a wrapped up bumper for a car. I thought it was a little odd that he was carrying this down the street into a residential neighborhood but a little home mechanics never hurts. As I continued to watch, I was perplexed about whether the man actually thought he was a person or a car. As he neared the corner, he swung wide and rounded the corner as though he was actually in the car the bumper was meant for. If he Googles for directions, I wonder if he enters "by car" or "walking"?!

Legs

Dear Diary,

Today while shopping at Home Depot, a man close to stopped in his tracks to stare at my legs. Yes, I am aware my legs are white to the point of being nearly translucent, but I did not think it was cause to stare them down. Now had the guy given me the once over, from head to toe, I could possibly understand the need to stare. This would make more sense to me because I was outfitted in sneakers, shorts, a sweatshirt, a hat, and to complete the ensemble I had on a scarf. The day had been around 60 but it was cooling down. It made perfect sense to me to put on a scarf to stay warm though I'm well aware of how odd it must have looked. Instead the guy was awestruck by my pasty white legs.

Dear Diary,

What do you get when you combine"

suited young man drinking Mountain Dew wearing shitkicker boots +
wife beater tattooed young man drinking coffee with laptop +
coffee shop =

confusion

Silver Flash

Dear Diary,

Today I was driving. I was driving the speed limit, stopping for pedestrians, and making full stops at stop signs. I think one could say I was being a mindful driver. So I was driving in my own lane, which was on the left side. The two lanes were merging into one when out of no where a Lincoln Continental speed by almost side swiped me! It was so close I came to almost a complete stop to avoid getting hit. I would like to add that the early to mid 70s Continentals spanned in 233.4 inches! That is an awful lot of car to get swiped by! It was like a silver torpedo. There was the front, then mid front, then driver door, more of the door, then some back, more back, and finally the rear. Said driver then went on to fail to signal, drive in two lanes, and almost rear end another car. Perhaps said driver needs to re-take the drivers exam?!

You are loved

Dear Diary,

My friend and I were walking down the street downtown. A guy hanging out yells as we pass by, "Did you know I love you?" My friend responds, "Nope!" The guy replies, "No! Not you!"

Park Tour

Dear Diary,

This week I have been taking my dog on a little tour of parks. Each day, weather permitting, we visited a different park and went running and/or exploring. All of the parks were lovely. However the most memorable of the week was definitely the first park we visited. Now I do not want to go naming names so I will call it Park One. Upon parking in the parking lot of Park One, my dog got very excited because she saw another canine friend. Generally she is very patient but in the name of puppy play she jumped out of the car and took off. When she pulls stunts similar to this, it turns into quite the game to get her back into the car or onto her leash. She runs, she leaps, she romps around. All the while looking at me with those puppy dog eyes saying, "Look at me go mom!" So she has trained me to play the game back so she does not know I am concerned about her.

So I step away from the car and start calling her. She is fleeing for a field and having the time of her life. Meantime on the other side of the parking lot, opposite the field, this woman begin screaming! Just to be clear, she was not yelling, she was screaming. She starts out, "GET YOUR DOG! GET YOUR DOG!" I look over at this crazed woman with a look of "what do you think I am doing with leash, calling her name?!" As if the first screams were not enough, she continues, "GET YOUR DOG! I AM SCARED OF DOGS! ESSSPECIALLY BOXERS!" By this time she's frothing at the mouth and I find her ridiculous for running in a public park where there will be dogs if she is this frightened by them. I might also add my dog is no where near her still. Nor has she at any point gone anywhere near this hysterical woman. To top it off, Boxers are very friendly dogs. Now I understand fears are not rational. However, she is being so ridiculous that I am trying very hard not to yell back at her. I refrain. She continues screaming even though I have my dog on leash. So she braves getting into her car, two cars away from mine, but not without giving me the look of death. It is now that I decide to openly laugh at her as we take off jogging. My dog just looks at me with head tilt, "what's going on?"

Celebrity Sighting

Dear Diary,

Today Sircracksolot brought his girlfriend Duchessgranniepant to the gym. I literally burst out in laughter when they walked in. They are like a wannabe Kid Rock and Pam Anderson... He walks around the gym posing like a weight lifter. And she spent the whole time tanning. I wanted to belt out some Bawitdaba! I thought doing so would blow my cover so I refrained.

The one very perplexing thing about Duchessgranniepant is that unlike her boyfriend, who by the way was wearing multiple gold chains, her skivvies were extra large. She has sporting hot pink roos on which she pulled up higher than her pants. And for extra emphasis she tied the back of her shirt into a knot. I do not think Pam would do this but like I said they are wannabes. Most likely entry level wannabes.

Where the sidewalk ends

Dear Diary,

Today I went to the gym. It was a regular day of people watching, cardio, and weight lifting. Oh and a little Sportscenter and CNN. All the regular gym activities. I was successfully watching the woman put makeup on in the car before entering the gym. As if mascara makes for a better workout. The Anorexic Woman in all pink which amounted to perhaps one candy stripe. The Chatty Cathy with her Diet Coke. No need to comment there. But then, when I was least expecting it, Sirlotsocrack came into eye sight. I people watch at the gym, I do not deny or make excuses for said activity. However, in this particular instance, I was not seeking out person to watch. He stepped right in front of me, bent over, remained bent, and let pants slip below waist line, and Hello crack! It happens to the best of us. However when planning to go to the gym, who wears pants that way? And he was clearly planning to go the gym; sleeveless tank, track pants, sneakers, tattooed arms. Yes - that guy! But with bum crack. I rapidly picked up the pace of reps to skirt the mounting laughter inside. However, if I had to estimate, I would say he was bent over with bum crack exposed for at least two full minutes. Diary I am now haunted by this image. Hopefully tomorrow I will only see Makeup Woman, Anorexic Woman, and Chatty Cathy!

The Size Issue

Dear Diary,

I have been told I am a small person, and while I would like to think I am of average size, apparently some parts of me are indeed small. Last summer I had the unpleasant experience of bra shopping. I went to a local store only to find that the only bras the store carried in my size were covered with Hannah Montana's face! Now I realize I am not the chestiest person (okay I am not chesty at all but that is not my point). My point is that I find it absolutely absurd for Hannah Montana to be on any underwear period. Woman's underwear should be for women, not for teeny boppers hitting early puberty. Needless to say I was irate, had a small spat with the underwear hanger, and immediately left the store. As I recall I went straight to the gym to work out my new found hatred of Hannah Montana.

I thought my small size issue was limited to undergarments. And I was willing to accept this. Okay willing and acceptance are a stretch. How about I was going to tolerate the existence of said awful bras in the world since I did not find anything remotely as heinous at VS. To my unfortunate surprise, the sizing issue also extends to garden gloves. Now this might seem trivial but I assure you, it is not. You can not go pulling weeds or moving bricks if your gloves fall off. So I cruised my local hardware store for a new pair of gloves. Woman's gloves come as a one size fits all and extra large. Now what little old granny do you know that has man hands?! The option for small, the ONLY option, was Dora the Explorer. Don't get me wrong, these are very cute gloves if you are four or five. But I am not. I do not think it is too much to ask for a non-character option to be offered in the smaller sized items.

The only way this situation could get worse is if I found Miley Cyrus on my beers!

School Bus

Dear Diary,

What do you call it when a school bus doesn't stop for a pedestrian, at a cross walk, in a school zone???

Airplane Etiquette... for the Midwest

Dear Diary,

During some recent travels I witnessed something very strange. I have traveled quite a bit and seem some strange things. But this made me snort out loud...that says a lot. As a general rule, when people need to get up while aboard an airplane and they are in the window seat, the rest of their aisle gets up so they can get out. Generally when this happens, the window seat person will side step out of the row. However, in the Midwest this is not the case. Said window seat person needed out of his row. The two other people got out of their seats and moved out of his way. Window Seat then stepped onto the newly emptied seats and walked across them to get out. Not only was this bizarre but it was not graceful in the slightest. I thought this rather odd but was fully enthralled in my book so I figured he might have tripped or something. However when he returned to his row and his fellow travelers got out of their seats for him he did the same thing! This time, even more awkwardly (if this is possible), he staggered over the seats crashing into the row in front of him and barely clearing the overhead compartments. At this point I was staring and laughing so loudly that I could hear myself over my sound reduction headphones. Then the snorting began. It was the sort of scene from a movie you would rewind and watch over and over again it was so funny.

I can only hope the people in his row were not traveling with him. Or sense enough not to go in public with him again after this trip!

Great Day for a Bike Ride

Dear Diary,

The weather was beautiful today. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping. I thought it would be a great day to go for a bike ride. So I pulled my bike out of the garage, my boom-box from the shelf, and off I went. I was so overwhelmed with the great weather that I decided to stop riding my bike and take it all in. When I got off my bike and turned on some tunes, I felt a little warm. So I decided to take my shirt off and use it as a blanket so I could lay down next to the road and relax. I thought other people would like to hear some music so I turned my boom-box up. It was a great day.

Oh wait... that wasn't me! That was the guy I saw across from the gym. But as far as I can tell, that was the narrative that was in his head! It probably was not the only narrative in his head.

Personal Space

Dear Diary,

I was flying on a plane today and realized I might have severe OCD issues when it comes to personal space! I know what you are thinking... this is not shocking news but do tell. I was sitting on the plane crammed in like cattle, ironically so since the flight was from the Midwest. Speaking of the Midwest, the people there are odd and do not know how to dress. Or how to condition their hair. It's all very confusing to me but I get off the topic. So it occurred to me that my personal space bubble was being rubbed up against, and not in a good way. I had two choices, I could ask the woman next to me to move so I could pull the arm rest down to create a barrier or I could suffer through the grotesque invasion of personal space. The first option was most appealing and set very clear boundaries but the latter was more of a challenge. The flight was after all three hours, thirty two minutes and five seconds long. I chose the latter of the two as a challenge to myself but I also put the arm rest down on the other side of myself for comfort. Ahh the security.

The Odd Couple

Dear Diary,

Today at the gym I watched this couple walk into the gym...all business, straight to the treadmills. He was wearing capri cargo pants, sneakers and a t shirt. She was wearing leggings with jean bermuda shorts over the top and a long sleeved shirt. Also in sneakers. The old school pumas to be exact. He immediately starts sprinting on the machine. I kept waiting for his skinny little body to trip and go flying off the back, but it never happened. She took a different approach to the workout and maintained a steady speed walk. Her speed was so quick she may as well have been walking. He eventually moved on to lift weights. She eventually broke a sweat and stripped her long sleeve shirt off to work out in a tank. I eventually finished my workout and came home.

youtube video

Dear Diary,

Perhaps this video will help illustrate Katana...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zLrsCnBvQFo

A Day in the Life of a Drag Queen

Dear Diary,

On a recent trip to Seattle, I crossed paths with a drag queen (or is it Drag Queen?). I was with my mom and my aunt. For whatever reason my mother insisted on driving in the big city, and I feel the need to add that she does not venture to Seattle often so her downtown city driving skills are a bit rusty. So as we're meandering through town, my aunt and mom look to the right side of the car and see a DQ. Naturally they both begin to gawk. So naturally the DQ pulls out the largest pickle (literally) you had ever seen. To give you a mental image of how big this pickle is... I think it is safe to compare to a wiffle ball bat! And what does one do with a pickle that large? Naturally one deep throats it. So that is what the DQ did! By this point, my mother has ceased applying pressure to the gas peddle and we've come to a complete stop in the middle of the intersection. Finally my mother collects her tongue and we drive off. As we leave the intersection, I can't help but explain, "That was awesome!" My mom and aunt struggle to understand why I find this experience so great, but they didn't see the whole thing from the back seat of the car!

TB

Dear Diary,

Today I drove by a Taco Bell and their sign said, "Let us satisfy you". Is it just me or is that wrong on a multitude of levels?

Post Office

Dear Diary,

So the other day I needed to make a stop at the post office to mail an extra large package. As I'm approaching the door, a woman noticed I was carrying this extra large box so she paused to hold the door. Apparently I did not walk fast enough and pausing for the extra five seconds it would take me to get to the door was just too much for her because when I was about three steps away from the door, she let go and walked away. Luckily I was able to catch the door before it closed, however, the next door simply slammed in my face. On this door, she did not even try to hold it open. I would like to add that there was not a line and I was RIGHT behind her by this point. Thankfully, a pregnant lady (and I mean pregnant) came and opened the door for me. Non-pregnant lady will not hold door for five seconds longer but pregnant lady will take the ten steps out of her way to open door. Go figure!

The House Guest

Dear Diary,

You know you may not be invited back when…

I recently stayed with some friends over the weekend. They so graciously allowed me to bring my puppy. My “puppy” is just over a year old so she’s mellowed out quite a bit. She travels well so I was not overly worried about keeping an eye on her after her initial sniffing out of the place. This was probably not an excellent choice because by the time I was curious about what she was up to, she too had become curious… about the contents of the bathroom garbage can. Diary, I know you probably already know where this is headed. I leave the kitchen to find my puppy with toiletries of the female sort strewn about the living room. I reach to take them away, to scold her, and turn only to see she’d left a trail from the bathroom. Out of pure puppy mama instinct, I begin to pick up the female hygienic paraphernalia so the home owners are not burdened with my puppy as a guest. I pick up as far as the bathroom door when I realize this particular mess is a tad on the personal side and perhaps better left for the lady of the house to tend to. It goes without saying she was mortified by my pup’s indiscretion.

The moral of the story: the next time I visit with puppy and the hosts ask what they can do to puppy proof, I reply with a suggestion of garbage cans with lids or closing bathroom doors.

Late Night Grocery Shopping

Dear Diary,
Before I begin telling you this story, I need to provide you with a key. Here it is:
……………………….=the amount of time you pause while speaking and your internal monologue starts to tell you to start speaking again
A few evenings ago at the usually empty grocery store, I get in line after a family with many many groceries. As I begin to unload my cart, I realize there is a guy behind me without a cart or basket. I continue to unload my cart and realize it might be a while before I get through. So I turn back to the young gentleman and say, “Would you like to go in front of me, since you only have……………………….one item?” It is during my ………………………. That I have decided against naming the single item he is purchasing because I have seen that it is a box of condoms, and there is a very long line behind him. The amount of time it has taken you to read this, picture the mental image of my cheese ball grin forming as I ask this, and start laughing is about how long it took him to actually respond to my offer. Wait, it might have been just a touch longer. Finally with a smirk he says, “ok thanks.” As he steps around me, he realizes there is not room on the conveyer belt for his box of Trojans and stands there awkwardly while turning around to smirk at me some more. By this time, my face is buried in my cart trying to contain my laughter. (Please note: This is not hilarious because he is buying condoms, wrap that baby up! Rather it was because of his obvious discretion being blown by me and the intentional effort to keep it cool that followed.) So now I am left with four options:
a) Comment to the guy that it is a good thing he went around since he clearly has someplace to be.
b) Ask whose place we’re going to.
c) Let the mounding laughter burst.
d) Play it cool and not embarrass the guy any more.
I really wanted to opt for option (a) but decided against it since he was already blushing. Instead I held in my laughter and played it cool which was very hard when he turned to thank me and smirk one last time before leaving the line. I made it to the parking lot before I burst out laughing, and this little piggy went ha ha ha all the way home.

New Gym Member

Dear Diary,
For months I have been haunted by this over the top health freak of a woman possibly turned anorexic woman at the gym. Today I finally went at a time when she was not there and so relieved to be able to stare off into space and rock out. So I am mid workout when I realize this woman, new to the gym, is talking to me. My headphones have the sound reduction feature which is amazing for being antisocial at the gym. So I take out a headphone and she says, “No better time than the present, right?” Well I obviously agree since I am at the gym, but I just politely agree and go back to what I am doing. She gathers her things and walks into one of the individual changing rooms. She does not close the door behind her. This seems a little odd but maybe she just needs to pull her hair back. NOPE She proceeds to take her pants off, with the door WIDE open! And I might add that the open door to her changing room, which is fully equipped with hinges to close and a deadbolt of a lock, is in clear view from the glass entrance of the gym. I had to switch machines so I couldn’t see her. I can not figure out why anyone would do such a thing. Nobody needs to see naked unfit people at the gym. A few minutes later she comes out; outfit changed and fully clothed again, and gets on a machine. I avoid contact with her for the rest of my workout but will remain haunted with that image until I see the anorexic woman again!

Regular Saturday Night

Dear Diary,

I apologize for being slow to write to you this year, it’s just with all the ass-kicking and heart-breaking, I have been one busy girl! I did have the most peculiar weekend. I would say it was a full moon but it was not, nor a blue moon or an eclipse moon. Just a regular ol’ weekend but the crazies were in full force. I guess I should back up and explain to you exactly what happened.

So the happenings began on Saturday night. I attended an evening showing with a couple girl friends. I was in desperate need of food for my puppy. Poor little piglet had eaten only a portion of what she usually eats the past few days. Of course the pet stores were closed by the time the movie let out, so I stopped into Rite Aid on my way home. Since most people have much more going on on a Saturday night than shopping at the drug store, I was literally the only person in the store with the exception of the lone employee of the evening. I was also the only car in a very large parking lot. So I find the skimpy selection of dog food and laugh when the largest bag they sell is 8 pounds. My piglet eats 8 pounds a day! (If she were a child and not a dog, I’d put her in commercials with her slim and muscular physique and ability to gorge food. I would make a million! ….Sorry diary, I got sidetracked)

At any rate, I select a small bag of food and trot through the barren store to the checkout. As I’m punching in my pin of my debit card thinking about what pajamas I will be putting on when I get home, the cashier interrupts my highly developed train of thought to ask if I had received an H1N1 shot? To which I replied, “no…” I suspect he’s going to try to sell me on the next clinic but am oddly surprised when he says, “Did you know there is new research now that shows the H1N1 shots are harmful…they cause DNA damage!” “Well I am not planning to get one anyway so …” Now before I complete the “conversation” I must describe said cashier to you. He is fairly tall, long shaggy hair, some ungroomed facial hair, and best of all beety weird eyes. His gaze actually reminded me a little of the hitch hiker Ben Stiller’s character picks up in There’s Something About Mary. Now if you recall, that guy was a weeeeirdo. So I am now done punching in my pin number because let’s face it, four digits doesn’t take long. And the cashier isn’t pushing his button so I can go home to put on those cozy pink fleece pajamas, rather he’s elaborating on the harmful effects of the H1N1 shot, “You don’t even want to know what it is doing to pregnant women.” As he stares at my stomach. My not basketball shaped stomach. Finally he turns to the register to punch in whatever he needs to punch so I can leave the bloody Rite Aid. But not before he can add in one final word, and that is “You should really do some research about it. Because they tell you it is good for you but it is not. They want people to get the shots but they’re really messing people up.” “Okay then, well like I said not planning to get one so I guess I lucked out! BYE!”

As I briskly walk out to my lone car in the parking lot, another foolish person in desperate need of something that can not wait until normal stores are open pulls into the lot. I can’t help but think I should stop them before they walk into the danger zone and come out with damaged DNA and distorted babies, but then I think better of it because those fleece pajamas were calling my name!