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Sunday, May 29, 2005
Wicked Awkward
 I think tonight I actually have something to write about, although it is something that happened to me a while ago that I have sort of been sitting on for a variety of reasons. Primarily, it is because I just have not had time to post as much as I (and some people) might like. But, seeing as how I have some free time on my hands, I will use it to tap out a little something on this keyboard for your reading pleasure.Ok, so, a few months ago, I was at my local Barnes & Noble, purchasing a refreshing beverage of the caffeinated variety. As I stood at the end of the counter awaiting the arrival of my coffee, the older gentleman (and by "older," I mean early 60's) who had been behind me in line came and stood next to me after ordering as he waited for his drink, as well. Out of the corner of my eye, I kind of thought it looked like the man was staring at me. Naturally, when someone stares, it is hard NOT to wonder what the hell they are staring at. Unfortunately for me, there is a plethora of possibilities to answer that question. At this point, I am beginning to get angry--but I still have not made eye contact. I can see that he is starting to get fidgety. Looking away, looking back; away, back, away, back. Finally, I look over at him, and he looks at me and says, "Do you mind if I ask you a question?" In the split second that I have to answer that question, about a jillion possibilities for what this dude could possibly have to ask me go flying through my brain. "Sure," I replied, thinking that I had heard every imaginable question before at some point in my life--this couldn't be anything I had not already dealt with before. But, it turned out, it could be. The man pointed to my head, and in a decidedly grumpy and antagonistic tone, he said, "What made you buy that hat? Why are you wearing it?" I had to stop to think. Hmmm... First I had to remember, Which hat am I wearing today? For me, baseball hats are vital accessories. I have an excess of baseball caps, and on any given day, I could be wearing any one of the 25+ hats in my collection. Then it hit me. I had on my Boston Red Sox hat. And this guy was (likely) a lifelong Red Sox fan, disgruntled by the suddenly cramped feeling on his bandwagon, what with all the people jumping on since the Sox won the World Series and broke the curse of the Bambino. That's understandable. I get that. I do. But the look of utter disgust on his face, as he stood there awaiting my answer, certain that I was one of those new fairweather fans was unfair. And, it made me angry. So, I answered his question with another question, "Do you honestly want to know why I bought and wear this hat?" And he replied, "Yes." I answered his question with this explanation: "Ok. I haven't ever really told anyone this before, but, my grandfather died when I was 12, and one of the things that I remember about him--and it really only recently just kind of popped into my memory again--the thing that I remember about him is that whenever he would go anywhere, unless it was winter, he would wear his Red Sox hat. I remember him always having a Red Sox hat. And, so, I went out and bought this one. Because he had one." And in the 15 seconds that it took for me to tell this man, a complete stranger, something that to me, was so personal, I watched his face and the expression of disgust that was on it change to one of complete embarrassment, mortification, and I think, perhaps sympathy. I kept my eyes fixed on his, but he had to look away as he said, "Oh....ok....so, there's a reason why you...ok....that's good..." and his voice trailed off. He didn't look at me again. And, honestly, I get where he was coming from. But, man, don't assume. He obviously knew he made a faux pas, which I'm sure is why he averted his eyes from mine. But, I held my gaze on him. And then I heard the barista say my drink was ready. But I continued to stare. To watch him squirm. To make him uncomfortable. Just for a little bit longer. ¶ Ξ PDawg Composed at 10:35:00 PM |
Sunday, May 22, 2005
Grave Danger -- Vols. 1 & 2
| All I have to say about the 2-hour Tarantino-riffic season finale of C.S.I is ... WOW. That was an AMAZING episode! I absolutely loved it. Fan-freakin-tastic. Makes me wish I had taped it. If you didn't see it, find someone who recorded it, because it was sooooo worth watching. ¶ Ξ PDawg Composed at 11:15:00 PM |
Friday, May 13, 2005
