sports at the grocery store

I was at the grocery store Saturday morning getting some things for work that day. Despite having to work on Saturday (not that I still necessarily agreed with it)I was in a pretty good mood, which motivated the man (I wouldn't necessarily say he was homeless but he was certainly a little out there) behind me to start telling me about how our respective cashier loved the Clippers but the one next to him loved the Lakers and how they'd go back and forth. He asked me if I was a basketball fan. I was tempted to answer, am I a basketball fan?! But he didn't know that so instead I told him that I was. He asked whether I supported the Clippers or the Lakers. I said, "Neither. I'm a Pistons fan!" He looked surprised but unantagonistic, which is not what I typically expect from LA fans, and asked how long I've lived here. I said, "Almost five years." He said, "And you haven't converted?" I said, "Never! I've been a fan since birth." He nodded his head as though it made sense. He then began to give our cashier a little bit of lip regarding the Clippers performance the night before. Next thing you knew all of the middle aged men in line (I was the only person who didn't fit that category) were chatting sports with me and very excited about this. As I paid for my groceries they all said good-bye to me and told me to stay a sports fan. I assured them I would and walked out of the grocery store with enough street cred to last me at least through the year.

overheard randomness part tres

Young woman on the train chats on her cell phone to who knows who. She's larger than average (to be nice) with her butt crack hanging out of pants that are certainly three sizes too small and a shirt that shows more of her stomach than even Giselle should. Her hair looks like it hasn't been brushed (perhaps even washed) in the new year and I'm pretty sure her breath smells (not being nice). Her conversation goes something like this, "First Tyrone came over last Sunday. Then, as soon as he left Jason called me. But I told him he couldn't come over. I mean, it's Sunday. I can't have two guys over on a Sunday. It's the lord's day. So he came over on Tuesday cuz he had to work Monday... No, no one came over on Monday. But Wednesday night I went out with Jill and met this guy. I don't remember his name but he came home with us... No, nothing happened... I'm not doing that on the first night we met! Plus Tyrone was coming over the next morning for breakfast. I had to get new dude out fast. And Jason wanted to get together that night. I don't know how this happens!"

Two seemingly normal guys stare, their mouths agape. I'm guessing they agree with her last statement.

overheard randomness part dos

A young lady check's her baby's diaper while sitting in a [really high class] restaurant with her friend. She interrupts her friend who seems to be going on about absolutely nothing anyway and announces to almost the entire eatery, "Damn, I'm out of diapers!" To which the perplexed friend responds, "Do you have any maxi pads? She's small enough, right?"

assistance at the thrift store

I hate shopping. But I love thrift stores. While this might sound like an oxymoron (which might be a good word to sum me up in anyway) let me add that I also like treasure hunts. Which to me is really what a thrift store is. The actual likelihood of finding something amazing is pretty slim (although still much higher than JC Penneys) but when you do it's the most amazing thing you've ever found and you can be sure no one else has it. That being said I actually find a lot of really cool stuff at thrift stores so my previous point might be null and void.

Thrift stores are also great people watching locales. For sure you'll hear the loud and proud sisters yelling at each other across the store about what they've found (okay, I've done that a time or two as well). You'll also hear a mother and daughter arguing loudly about something the daughter wants but the mome doesn't want her to have. Creepy middle aged men hide out in the women's shoe section. I'm still not sure if they're waiting for everyone to leave so they can buy a pair or if they're checking out the ladies' legs. Baby's are running around screaming madly looking to be adopted since I'm pretty sure they don't have parents. Someone always shows up for some drunk shopping. Hipsters act like they're too cool to be there but end up leaving with fifteen bags of the most used clothing they can find.

And this past Sunday I met Scarf Picker Outter Man. There was this rack filled with scarves. Granted you don't really need a scarf in southern California but I've come to appreciate the fashion of them. But since you don't need a scarf in southern California I refuse to pay full price for them. So when I saw this rack with all of these beautiful brand new looking scarves I went nuts. Scarf Picker Outter Man must have noticed that because he proceeded to spend five minutes of his shopping trip (to buy what I do not know) picking out scarves for me and draping them around my neck asking all the other randoms what they thought. With his help I purchased four new "for fashion only unless it snows in the near future" scarves. And that is a new reason why I love thrift stores.

overheard randomness part uno

I was hella late to a training I was supposed to be leading this morning. The hella late part was due to the inordinate amount of activities I fit into my schedule between the hours of 8 and 10am (I only mention this piece of information as I'm still pretty impressed by the shear amount of not even necessary but well worth itness I accomplished before I even left the house for work.). Lucky for me that was the case because I got to overhear this, "He told me he had kids and I said, 'You have kids?! Like human ones?'"

boring people

I think of myself as an unprejudiced person. I really like people and have been lucky enough to know enough exceptions to every “rule” that it’s easy for me to see people for who they are rather than the group they might represent. Then, it was pointed out to me by my friends that I am in fact prejudiced against boring people. And I realized they’re right. I really dislike (I’m avoiding the word hate because that’s pretty strong and I don’t particularly want them to die, just never cross paths with me) people who seem to lack even one interesting characteristic, experience, or fact about themselves. It’s ironic because I should find these people most interesting in that I thoroughly don’t understand how it’s possible to go through an entire life without exhibiting even a hint of personality. But even that doesn’t hold my interest enough to want to have an extended conversation (or even standard greeting) with them.

Now I can do small talk. I’m actually really good at it. But it’s kind of like foreplay in that you do it so you can get to the really good stuff (conversations and sex in case you’re lost in the metaphor). Actually that’s a poor metaphor because I consider foreplay to be really good stuff too. Hmmm… not sure of a good comparison. Let’s just say I enjoy deep, thought-provoking conversations that I leave feeling like I’ve grown in some way as a person (or at least have guffawed to the point I can feel a six-pack being formed) and I only put up with the small talk to get to that.

Needless to say boring people don’t contribute whatsoever to mental stimulation or a solid six-pack. Luckily I don’t encounter many boring people I have to spend a significant amount of time with. But when I do I’m at a complete loss. I’m able to penetrate many walls other people can’t during the getting to know you process but so far I’ve found boring people to have a layer of Kevlar. And I don’t own any kryptonite. I prefer avoidance at all costs because such situations are that uncomfortable for me.

The most uncomfortable situations with boring people are when these boring people are my friends’ significant others or good friends because they’re people I have to be around over and over if I want to continue to have our mutual non-boring friends in my life. But what’s really puzzling is that my friends (all of whom I consider to be some of the most interesting peeps on Earth) are attracted to boring people at all. Everyone explains it away as, well, they must be good in bed but I can’t imagine someone that boring gets freaky naked. How is that easier than getting interesting while clothed? And if there isn't any sex at all involved, then I don't see any potential appeal.

A fantastic example of this is an experience a friend of mine related to me having to do with a girlfriend of a friend no one in their group was too impressed with. A group of people (all of whom I know to be extremely easy to interact with) were standing in a circle talking and suddenly one of the guys realized someone was standing behind him in the corner. It turned out to be the girlfriend, who had stood there for who knows how long not saying a word or trying to get into the mix. To this day everyone is still baffled as to how she could have stood there for so long and why they’re still dating because her boyfriend has a lot of personality. Apparently enough for the both of them.

At any rate this post really has no point (which might momentarily make me boring, or else unable to finish what I start, which is debatably true at times) other than to publicly declare my prejudice against boring people and hopefully ward off future boring bores.

foot fetishes aren't just in the movies

As part of my job I often make presentations on college campuses. I love this because I enjoy college students (not only for the dating opportunities) and ultimately want to be a full-time professor. However, I’m often mistaken for a college student even at the community colleges I go to, where the median age has to be 19, which can sometimes be a problem. The only benefit being that getting hit on by dudes who can’t even legally enter a bar does wonders for the self-esteem so I can't complain too much.

So what I'll do instead is relay this story of one of the more bizarre encounters I’ve ever had. I was sitting on a bench at an anonymous community college campus between presentations (as I had more than one scheduled for the day) reading what was probably Harry Potter (as that was during my "I never thought I’d have an obsessed stage" obsessed stage). Now that I write that on paper (or rather a computer screen) I realize why I might get mistaken for a directly post-high school student. At any rate I was enjoying a free moment during the work day when a tiny, nerdy looking guy approached me and asked if he could sit on the bench with me. I found it a little odd that he wanted to sit directly on the bench I was sitting on when there were completely open benches all around but since I was eager (and a bit nerdy myself) to get back to my book I said, “Go ahead.”

He took this as a signal of my obvious interest, about to turn into full blown love at any time, and proceeded to chat with me. I was okay with that (well, just the chatting part) since I love talking to people and you never know what you’ll learn. Until suddenly he pointed to my shoes and told me I had high arches. Well, I know for a fact that I don't have high arches so I told him so. He insisted that I did. To which I replied, “Actually I know I don’t. I had my feet examined at a running store and I have normal feet.” Not sure why I felt the need to justify this. He again insisted that I did and told me to point my toe and when I did he moved his hand toward my foot. Thinking he was going to point out how I had a high arch (and mind you I had on heels so I don't know how he would be able to tell what my arch looked like anyway) he instead started to carress the bare part of my foot. Yanking my foot away I asked him what he was doing? That's when he said he had a thing for high arches and went off, "Well, I like all arches, high, regular..." and he kept talking and talking about his arch fetish. And it took me a minute to get my mind together because I couldn't believe this was happening to me; I'd though foot fetishes were something for the movies and I felt like I was watching myself in this movie. Finally he said something along the lines of wanting to photograph my foot. I said, "No thanks." He continued to say that he didn't have a camera with him anyway but would like to photograph my foot in the future. Snapping out of my daze I pretty much yelled, “No!” and really hoped the couple sitting across from us couldn’t hear this. He continued to go on and on about his foot fetish (which up until that moment I really thought only existed in the movies) with me sitting there unable to think anything but, “Is this real life?” Finally I tell him that he needed to leave NOW! To which he responded, “Okay, but can I get your phone number in case you change your mind in the future?” Needless to say this man is now my future husband…