They bought the bullets and there’s no one left to shoot.

21 01 2015

Bizarreness happens all the time, all over the world. I love this aspect of life, love that I can be contemplating just how ordinary and boring my life is and then wham…I suddenly drive off a cliff and land in the forest of ridiculousness.

Take today, I was driving to an appointment, literally thinking about how utterly boring my life is – despite the voice in my head* reminding me of things I have done in the past that while they were not truly impressive, were far from mundane and banal – when I saw a smallish, sporty car whiz by on the highway with a vanity tag that said ‘boudoir’. This got the synapses firing on all cylinders. Boudoir…on a car…what could that mean? Did the driver live in their vehicle? Were they some kind of mobile prostitute? Perhaps it means something so completely esoteric that I would have to know the driver to understand it…although I really doubt it’s something that complex, given where I live. Still, a whole multitude of possibilities were cycling through my brain…there is a story there and I want to hear it. Well, maybe I don’t…I bet the real reason for that tag is not nearly as inventive as I can imagine.

Another bit of oddity that occurred today was I had no less than two people on two separate occasions ask me today if I urinated. Just like that…”do you urinate?”. I was honestly dumbfounded both times and it took me a few beats to splutter out a response because I couldn’t stop myself from thinking “As opposed to what? Excreting through my pores?”. Naturally I replied in the positive as I do, in fact, urinate…being a human and all that rot. The first time I was asked was on the phone at 8 am after being rudely awoken from a reeeeally good dream. I chalked that one up to my half-asleepedness and dodgy iPhone connection. But then later in the day someone from the same clinic asked it again…a different person even. This is a pre-anesthesia clinic, one I had visited last November before my wrist surgery, and was definitely not asked this question then. But today, two of them asked me. This made me wonder if there are some non-urinating humans out there who have some sort of medical condition that prevents them from urinating. I mean I even wondered for half a second after I was asked if perhaps they wondered if I had a urine collection bag or something, but even then I would still urinate, wouldn’t I? I also thought perhaps it was their way of asking if I could leave a urine sample, but then why not just say it and why two completely different people asking this same question. One day I will discover why. The nurse who asked me this then proceeded to stick me twice in an attempt to collect enough blood for testing, thus rendering my hand completely useless to the infusion clinic. The first stick she actually was fishing about in my vein in a vain (hahahaha, see what I did?) attempt to coax the blood out. When that failed is when she stuck me a second time. Oh the joy of that.

My iron infusion appointment after this went off without a hitch. Nothing strange there unless you count the tech having to stick the IV needle in my forearm thanks to the prior double stick.

Next, I stopped in the cafeteria after my infusion for a sketchy cheeseburger and fries. I knew I probably shouldn’t eat the cheeseburger, but the only sushi left was a chopped fake crab roll (blarfy-boring), the turkey that was on special looked revolting, the sandwich counter was closed, the salads all looked depressing and the fruit there always looks as though it has been used for playing nine pins. Somehow, to my starveling mind, a soggy steam table burger seemed just the ticket. The attendant threw (literally threw) the bun and burger together, added some special ‘grill sauce’ (whatever that is), slapped on some slices of tomato and wilted lettuce leaves, then at the last moment added some grilled mushrooms after asking me if I wanted them then piled some fries on the side. It was a sad looking affair, but the fries looked tasty. I knew I would be disappointed but did not have a chance to find out. Now this bit is not exactly bizarre, but more weirdly fitting for my day in general. I was making my way to a table, juggling my wallet, kindle, phone, keys and my drink in one hand while carrying my foam food container in the other. I don’t have large hands so this was quite the feat, let me tell you. A mere 2 or 3 feet away from my targeted table, the bottom half of my foam clamshell decided to bend and flip my entire burger onto the floor with a spectacular splootch sound. I might have said ‘Shit!’ loudly enough for it to ring through the mostly empty cafeteria, thus calling attention to myself. All 10 people in the room turned to look at me…some giving me death glares for daring to utter such a word. In my head I told them all to piss off. I huffily set my things down on the table and proceeded to clean up my mess, cursing under my breath the entire time. The fries were absolutely delicious though…so there’s that.

Exiting the hospital, I was nearly asphyxiated in the elevator by a woman who had clearly slept in a bath of perfume, allowing it to marinate into her skin…this is not a weird occurrence either, but also fitting for today. It was about 7:30 pm at this point and dark, but I had a wicked craving for a coffee so I pulled into a Wendy’s drive through on the way home. I perused their minuscule coffee menu, finally deciding on something called a skinny vanilla iced coffee, I figured it would at least be low fat and whatever. I was told by the man-child manning the drive through that “We don’t have iced coffees any more”. I assumed he meant they just did not sell them anymore, and found it odd since they were clearly listed on the menu. I expressed how weird I thought this was and then proceeded to order an English breakfast tea instead. I was then told “Well we don’t have breakfast anymore so we don’t have any hot tea either.” Riiight. So not a lick of hot water or tea bags anywhere in the store at all? I looked over the menu again to make sure I wasn’t wishfully imagining the words, but no…there they were listed, with no time restraints in sight. I thanked the clerk for his time after pointing out that they were on the menu and drove off. He apologized as I pulled away…me thinking ‘your pathetic sorry won’t get me a coffee though, will it’? It only occurred to me about 5 minutes down the road that maybe he meant that since breakfast hours were over they no longer were serving such things, and I guess I can understand that for the coffees, but tea? Really? Regardless, they were still listed on the menu and there was nothing saying they were only available during breakfast hours. This is also not an example of bizarreness exactly, but put with everything else, it made me feel like I am even more of an outsider than I like to think I am. I have been in deep hermit mode so long that ‘normal’ is something I no longer recognize…and quite frankly I am deeply relieved that I am so far from normal.

Except for the peeing…I am pleased to keep that bit.

*Lately, the voice in my head sounds like David Tennant. Probably because of all the Doctor Who and various other Tennant shows I have watched lately, and not because I am weirdly obsessed with him or something. *coughcough* But I find his delightful Scottish burr is far more soothing & pleasing than my usual brain-screeching. It also makes my more ridiculous ideas seem brilliant! If anyone who bothers to read my tripe ever thinks I was in any way sane, this would, of course, affirm that no…no I am not.




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