Thursday, April 7, 2011


Eventually I will write that "Castles" post, I promise. (I'm sure you're all waiting with bated breath for it, obviously). Meanwhile, a few conversations I've overheard/taken part in that I want you to have for your records. I hope they are as useful to you as they have been to me.

Scene 1: Marshall's Department Store, near the pottery/crockery/stuff-you-don't-really-need-but-like-to-look-at isle (specifically that pitcher shaped like a chicken)

Woman behind me (loud and clear): "You do that and you belong to Satan."

Me (hastily snatching my hand away from the seemingly harmless ceramic poultry): Wha..?

Turns out she was on the phone. Still.

Scene 2: The elevator in my apartment building, on the way up from the laundry level, paused to let in two people with dogs.

Man (to small, agitated chihuahua): "If you can't play nice, you'll go to bed early!"

Woman (to larger, equally agitated canine of unknown breed): "Now be nice! I know I'm just your mama and you don't believe me, but you can share!"

Me (internally): If I stay in this elevator with them for too long, will I come out crazy too?

Scene 3: Years ago, some big EFY meeting that probably consisted of boring speakers and/or emotional manipulation. I have just noticed a paper-cut on my finger is bleeding a little (No, EFY did no make me cut myself...quite).

Me (turning to my roommate behind me): "Hey, do you have a bandaid?"

Roommate (leaning forward, whispering loudly): "I have diarrhea."

Me: "Do you also have a bandaid?"

Her: "I think it was something I ate."

Me: "Did you eat the bandaid?"

So, in conclusion: Too much time with animals may or may not lead to mental illness, chicken shaped crockery will lead you straight to hell, and in some cultures the word "bandaid" is code for "gastrointestinal problem."

You're welcome.

No comments: