Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Shopping carts


Imagine that went to Target the other night with your little brother to get the 5th season of Psych. You just LOVE Psych. While you’re driving, he asks if there is a lot of dirt in the air. 

You haven’t noticed but then you see a huge dust devil cross the street in front of you. There isn’t even a crosswalk! Yes, there is a lot of dirt in the air. And then you notice just how windy it is. It’s a dang hurricane, practically! 

You turn in on Target street and see some poor sucker pulled over by a copper. You feel kinda bad for the po po for a split second because leaves are flyin around hitting him in the head and big, fat raindrops are pelting his blues (which is short for blue uniform) but then you think he is a real schmuck for pulling that sucker over.

You pull into the parking lot, just by CafĂ© Rio, when you see a man who appears to be in his mid-fifties with his arms loaded down with several Target bags staring in horror as his cart starts rolling away from him. 

You stop short to see what will unfold. The wind rockets his cart past the stop sign and into the street. It’s on course to hit the curb when suddenly, for no reason at all, it makes a 45 degree turn and heads straight for the car that was pulled over. 

The poor man who lost his cart widens his eyes to the size of dinner plates. 

You and your brother stare in silence as the cart crashes right into the poor sucker’s car and bounces away and onto its side. And then you lose it. 

You turn back to the bag-laden man. He lifts his shoulders in disbelief and can’t stop staring. 

You still can’t drive and tears are streaming down your face. It’s just too much like a movie! 

The bag man lets his bags drop to his sides and turns back to his car. There’s nothing for him to do now but leave.

Monday, August 8, 2011

Cars vs. Elephants

I had text message conversation this morning with a guy I know. We aren’t super tight. We haven’t even hung out. But yesterday he grabbed my arm. He started squeezing it. I looked at him and said, “Are you feeling my muscles?” He said he was.  I squirmed away muttering something like, “I haven’t worked out in a long time.” It really made me laugh. Here’s the exchange from today:

Guy: How much do you weigh?
Me: Why would I tell you that?!
Guy: Just answer.

Me: No way, Jose. Why would you ask that?

Guy: Just cuz. You’re like, way strong.
Me: Well, if I was like 90 pounds I would gladly tell you. But I have what I’ll call an “athletic” build and I definitely don’t weigh 90 pounds.

Guy: You can sugarcoat it all day long. I’m pretty sure you’re over 150 so there’s no hiding it.

Me: (I know I can’t really hide my weight. And I have always been one of the “strong” girls meaning I have never been dainty or slender, and… that I could beat the crap out of all the other girls if I had an aggressive tendency, which, fortunately, I don’t. I’m more of a squirrel retreating from any sign of danger.  I feel like I look like a buffalo wallow woman, or an Amazonian , and there is just no hiding that. Not even with long sleeved shirts, which I was wearing yesterday. Darn him for touching me).
Me: I know. “Athletic” is sugarcoating it.

Guy: How much? (Throws out a number)
Me: I’m never telling!
Guy: I'll keep going up if you don’t spit it out.
Me: Whatever. You should know girls never like that question. I won’t tell.
I know you guys are all gasping in horror. You just have to know this kid. You never have to wonder what he is thinking (obviously) or where you stand with him because he’ll just tell you. He pretty much guessed my weight on the dot. Which is pretty annoying. How do people do that? I mean,  I have absolutely no concept of what things weigh. And I don’t really care as long as I can lift it outta my way. How much does a car weigh? Probably like 500 pounds. Cuz I can’t lift it. How much does an elephant weigh? Probably like 600 pounds. Because it probably weighs a little more than a car. No concept. No concept at all.