February 1, 2013

• Conversations…Unusual

  The “unusualness” here is twofold. First, it’s unusual for me to have conversations with strangers. Second, the subject matter of the conversations were unusual.

  After I submitted my paper around 3:30 I was hungry (not having eaten since 4). I decided to treat myself to lunch. Plus, I had a coupon. So, I made the little jaunt to a nearby Wendy’s. After I placed my order and got my cup, there was a lady babbling to herself at the soda fountain.

  Lady: “Man…I’m so hungry, I’m dizzy.”

  Me: (trying to be polite…the lady clearly wanted to talk with somebody) “I’ve been so hungry before, I thought I would throw up, but never dizzy.”

  Lady: “I gottoo tell ya’, I’m in a bad spot.” (Please note: she had her food in her bag at the soda fountain, she just hadn’t started fooding yet).

  Me: “I feel ya.” (WTF what am I SAYING? Engaging in the conversation was a bad choice. Abort. ABORT!)

  Lady: “One time, my brother said…he said…look here…he said he was so hungry (she lowers her voice and looks around)

  Me: (leans in)

  Lady. “Look here…he was so hungry…he said he could eat the ass out of a rag doll.“

  Me: (politely laughs)

  Lady: (cackles)

  Me: (continues to politely laugh and move toward a table)
  
  Lady: (now from across the dining area) “…out of a rag doll!” (more cackling)
  
  Me: (more polite laughter)

  Truly, this lady could have been the inspiration for an SNL character. Throw her on set with Janet and I would probably fall into a giggle coma. My chicken sandwich was not nearly as spicy at that moment shared with a total stranger. I went to a restaurant with a coupon and left with WAY more than what I paid–a bargain of many dimension.

  

  Then, on the walk home, I passed a man in a green shirt with a green hat who stopped to ask if I smoked cigarettes. I said no. And apologized–which now seems ridiculous. I SHOULD NEVER HAVE TO APOLOGIZE FOR NOT SMOKING! He said, “then, do you at least have 45 cents.” I said, “No, I have no cash on me.” That was factual. If I have change, I normally give it away to people who ask. I don’t like the jingles.

  As I got back, I had to go to the bathroom (too much spinach lately). I was reflecting on the general uniqueness of the preceding hour (rag doll and all) in my “thinking spot.” I got to thinking that the guy in green looked a lot like a guy I had helped out previously (I mentioned in this post). Then…the doorbell rang. I didn’t even know I had a doorbell. I quickly pulled myself together to answer the door…some business was left unfinished.

  It turns out that it WAS Bobby from before. But, neither of us recognized each other right away. In my defense, I thought he was going back to Austin AND he was wearing a hat low over his face. In his defense, I was wearing a hat. Neither of us wore hats when we first met. To my credit, I did remember his name. He had forgotten min. In his defense, I’m not that memorable. Anyway, he remembered where I lived and he just popped on over.

  So, Bobby’s at the door. He asked if I was busy…I said I was–I had just been in the middle of a fairly important activity. He then asked if I can help him out with an “arrangement” to make rent payments. I said I couldn’t. I had no cash on me. Also, I had no way to get to a free ATM because I don’t have my car. He seemed disappointed, but understanding.

  And…dear readers (especially the one I know IRL who makes fun of me for this), he asked about the bag I gave him last time. He remembered it because it had socks in it. Forget the pop tarts and the water bottles and the fast food gift card. What he remembered was socks. I told him I had another one if he wanted it (I keep several of these “hobo bags” made up and ready to go at all times.). He took it and then went on his way…still a little sad about the failure of his arrangement.

  So, while Kelis has the milkshake that brings all the boys to the yard, I have the hobo bags that bring the indigents. Hmmmm. I don’t know how I feel that there are ex-cons comfortable walking up to my house and ringing my doorbell because they *THINK* they saw me on a walk home. He really seems pretty harmless…and I guess, worst-case scenario he kills me: he’s still solved more problems than he’s created. So I shouldn’t complain, right?

  I guess on the upside, I have a friend in the ‘hood? Maybe…idk. I don’t think even Bobby wants to be friends with me IRL. Pero…no me aguito. C’est la vie. Meh…at least no one can beat me over the head with Matthew 25:40.

  • 1:49 am
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