you should be so lucky

Category: dribblings

two things you should know:

1. my hair is blue again

2. i’m a Terrible Christian™

the creepy Tourette’s guy (he’s creepy because there’s something not quite right about him. the Tourette’s isn’t what makes him creepy.) hit on me at work today. and you would think that HE would have been the awkward one, but i was the one struck mute with a mix of horror and embarrassment. i’m not saying he’s scary because of a handicap, he’s scary because he’s a giant black man who could crush my head with his bare hands, and when he gets upset his vocal tics and hand sanitizing get more out of control.

i try not to talk to him (obviously i’m polite to him, i just try not to engage in conversation) because it’s like he’s picking up on a conversation he had earlier with someone else and you have to play along like you know what the hell he’s talking about. kinda like talking to Crazy Margaret. so it’s best to keep the convo at a minimum.

but today he was persistent. i’m not sure i can write out the conversation in all it’s awkward glory. but i’ll try. for you.

i’m behind the circ. desk and he comes walking up out of nowhere right in front of me.

“i guess you change you hair color like your personalities.”

n’oh.  shit. where did he come from?  what do i say?   “no.” 

“my brother got out of jail yesterday.”

wha- okay think. say something. “…”

“it’s going to be the same thing all over again. i try to help him but he doesn’t want my help.”

say something. say something! be nice. BE NICE AND SAY SOMETHING, YOU IDIOT!  “that’s a. bummer.” bummer? that’s the best you can come up with? for crying out loud what’s the matter with you?

you should pray for him. *gasp* i know! shit.

Dear Jesus,

I AM SO SORRY THAT I CAN’T TELL THAT MAN I’ll PRAY FOR HIM. i want to. i want to love people like how you love people, but that guy stares at me a lot and it’s not cool, you know? and if i’m nice to him he’s going to think we’re dating or something, and he’ll catch me in the booksale stacks and get all Lenny on me and try to pet my blue hair and somehow strangle me. i will pray for him, honest, but i just can’t tell him that. okay? i’m sorry, please forgive me for being a coward. Amen.

“so what are you doing this weekend? or next week? what are you doing next week?”

shit! see?! see, Lord?! this is what i’m talking about!  “…i work.”

“all next week?”

“work.”

“you can’t work all the time.”

“i do. i just work.”

by the way, this whole time? i haven’t moved a muscle. i probably haven’t even blinked. i’m like a deer in the headlights.

“don’t you hang out anywhere?”

“no.”

“not even at your house? with your boyfriend?”

“husband.”

“oh, you’re married?”

“yes.”

“well, i need to run a lot of errands before i go to work.”

“have a good evening.”

he leaves and immediately my coworkers are all, “YOU ARE A MAGNET!” 

“shut up! and where the hell were you two?!”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

a few minutes later a family comes in and this really young little boy looks at me and asks, “what’s your name?”

“i’m jaimie, what’s yours?”

“gage.”

“it’s nice to meet you, gage.”

“you too,” he says and they leave.

my coworkers again: “now you’re robbing the cradle!”

“what? oh come on! he just asked my name!”

“HAHAHAHAHA you’re getting hit on by ALL AGES! ahahahahahahahaaaa!”

“he was a little kid, he saw my hair and probably thought i knew Grover or something.”

“hahahahahahahahaha!”

“i hate you.”

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