Here is the thing. I'm interested in a whole bunch of stuff. None of which really seems to mirror each other in subject matter. One minute I could be talking about amino acids and then the next I could be talking about a pair of boots I once had as a kid. With that being said, I feel I need to buy myself a camera so I can snap some photos of my blog topics. I have a feeling some people are not going to be very stoked on that idea. The crazy lady that called me an asshole last week at Circle K would have been particularly pissed off I can imagine. I will tell you what happened.
I'm on my way to work and it's fairly early on a Saturday morning for me. I don't like being rushed for work so I try to leave with plenty of time to get there and open things up at my own pace. This particular morning I stopped at the local Circle K for a cup of coffee and a gallon of water. In my 32 years of being on this earth I have never purchased a cup of coffee from Circle K. Yes I know that may seem very strange. Well I can also tell you I have never seen a full episode of The Simpsons or South Park so I'm sure that puts me in the one percent of people that either don't have a television or are blind. Anyway, back to the story. I had no idea Circle K was the center of the coffee universe. All I wanted was a cup of regular coffee and I was blasted with about 27 different choices. So here I am faced with this dellima, I have time to kill, and I'm still partially asleep. This does not put me in a very chipper mood.
As I look at all the various choices, in walks crazy lady. We have all seen crazy lady and she has many siblings in every state in our country and now that I think about it, every other country too. She is dressed in long flannel pajama bottoms, flip flops with socks, and a Dallas Cowboys pullover that looks to have been found in a dumpster. As she walks in the front door of the store, I hear a squawk much like a mating call of a tropical bird which draws my attention for a brief moment. I then hear "hey you!!" yelled at such a volume that is not acceptable to my ears this early in the morning. I just ignore it. Crazy lady now proceeds to stand next to me and ask me what I'm doing at which time I respond "I'm getting a cup of coffee which is why I am over in this section". That didn't go over too well. She looked at me and made something that resembled the bitter beer face and then filled her cup with coffee at which time she took about three steps toward the front counter and turned to face me and blurted out "asshole". I was shocked. I didn't really know what to say or do. After absorbing the incident, it started to become very funny and I started laughing to myself. That didn't go over too well either. Apparently crazy lady was very serious about calling me an asshole and didn't take too kindly to the fact that I found it funny. Mumblings of profanity followed and then I started having visions of being stabbed with a rusty screwdriver or shanked with a tooth brush ground to such a point that it could be easily confused for an ice pick.
This leads me to this quick random thought. Why do crazy people always have weapons made out of the most random shit? Now being crazy should not be confused with being poor. I can totally understand if someone is homeless or poor and needs a little protection, but for someone who has some money, why not get something legit? It's like they have all these items in front of them to choose from and they pick the most obscure item. "Okay I have a .38 pistol, Rambo knife, brass knuckles, and a pizza cutter.....I think I'll choose the pizza cutter." Unless I plan on getting into a confrontation with the Dominos delivery guy, that's about my last possible choice. Okay, back to the story. So as I leave I decide if that lady shanks me, I'm choke slamming the bitch into the lottery ticket display. Wait a second here. All this over a cup of coffee? Seriously?
If I would have had a camera this story would have been much better. If you could have seen the look on crazy lady's face it would have been priceless. I didn't end up choke slamming anyone and I didn't end up in the emergency room getting tetanus shots for a puncture wound so I guess it turned out just how it should of. I ended up with a cup of coffee, a gallon of water, and a new entry for my blog. I did an article for a website many moons ago that involved doing a ghetto beer tasting and it turned out pretty good. I'm thinking of doing something like this again but with full picture documentation. The best part about this will be the fact I don't drink. However for the good of creative journalism and the blog, I might throw caution to the wind and poison my soul as well as soil my pants for the endeavour. Until next blog.....
JD
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