la_belle_laide | Strange people, strange noises

Well, today was pretty much blogworthy. For me, anyway.

First thing, I was driving to dance class early this morning, and I ended up behind a guy in a little, blue car. From the back, what I could see over his seat, his hair was weirdly like of Jin's hair, only brown, and not red. (You know, that drawing is so crappy, especially the hair. I should totally repaint it.) So I was like, hey, whatever, it's just a guy with tousled, messy hair. And then we were stopped at the traffic circle (roundabout if you want to be European about it, but here it's a plain old traffic circle,) and he turned to the side and leaned over to get something off the passenger seat. In the rearview mirror I got a really good look at his profile, and he had the sane nose as Jin, and kind of the same mouth. Not so much the way I draw this character, but more like I see him in my head. If I could draw better, I'd, well...do a lot of things, I guess. Anyway, so because I am such a freak, I decided that I needed a much better look, so I waited until we were both on the same road and it split into two lanes, and I pulled up beside him. You know how when you're driving, you can feel someone looking at you, and you know that when you look at another driver, they're going to turn and look at you, too? (Odd little thing about driving, isn't it?) So he turned around to look back at me. And it wasn't so much that he looked like I see Jin in my head, but that he had the same glassy look about him, with the eyes just a little too wide. It's a very weird combination of vacant and naughty and unhinged, and this guy had it completely. Instead of being impressed or thinking it was neat, my thought was more like, "What is this guy doing driving around?! He's a menace!" It was pretty creepy.

Then, to add to the creepiness, there was an event after dance class, too. I'm leaving the studio, and some guy across the parking lot starts bellowing. I mean, really bellowing, like "WHUUUUUUUH! FUUUUUUUH!" and then, "WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!" and then lots of swearing and general mayhem. So I'm like, hey, a fight! I want to know what's going on! I turn to look, and there's this scrawny looking man, throwing a coke bottle at a car. Then he starts beating on the car and yelling at someone inside. At first I think this is completely funny, then I see that it's a young girl in the car and she's crying. So I start to think, hey, maybe I should call the cops, maybe he's harassing this girl or something. Then someone goes past them in a car and they stop to look at this maniac, and he yells at the people in the car, "MIND YOUR BUSINESS! I'M HAVING A FIGHT WITH THE GIRL I LOVE BECAUSE SHE WON'T SPEND TIME WITH ME! WUUUUUUH!" Now I'm like, do I get involved? Maybe they're just angsty morons and they do this every weekend. Maybe he's going to kill her. I don't know. I'll tell you this, though, it reminded me of any of the carious scenes between my sister and whatever guy she was with at any time in her past, and as soon as I made that connection, I hated this bastard.

Next thing that happens is that this little old lady goes by wheeling her little shopping cart. (The dance studio is in a shopping center, and every Saturday it must be senior citizen discount, because it's octogenarians as far as the eye can see.) So of course the little old lady looks at them, because, uhh, the guy is screaming, and the guy turns around and yells, F--YOU YOU OLD WHORE! WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT LOVE, YOU BITCH! YOU HAVEN't GOTTEN ANY IN YEARS!" And eff this and eff that and eff you, and he starts to walk after her like he's going to do something. And so the little old lady makes all haste to her car, and the guy goes back to screaming at the young girl.

So now I'm all pissed off, and I go into Baskin Robbins to call the cops. Only, they don't have a phone anywhere in sight, so I decide to cut to the chase and just tell the guys who work there what's going on anyway. There are two guys behind the counter, a young, slight kid, and an older but still young and very large guy, I mean like very tall and very broad. I tell them both a quick summary, and the one woman who's in there getting ice cream goes dead white and says, "Call the cops, that sounds serious." But, no. The big guy gets all pissed off and says, "I'll handle this." And he goes marching out the door.

Well don't you know, as soon as this guy goes marching out the door, the screaming, scrawny punk disappears into the bushes? But the guy just went right up to the car, to the crying girl, and started talking to her. Then, don't you know, the little old lady got out of her car and went over there, too. I have no idea what they were talking about or where the screaming moron went.

And then I said, "thus endeth my involvement." And drove home.

People are so weird, aren't they? And when they act up like that, I mean like with strange noises and swearing and screaming and all of this, the first thing I think of is that short story by Stephen King, the one that was in Everything's Eventual. I'm not sure what it was called exactly, but it was something like "Lunch at the Gotham Cafe" I guess, and it was a story in which a maitre d' goes on a rampage. He kept screaming these abstract things and compulsively making these odd noises as he hacked and killed people in his path. That's what I think of when people start acting like that.

Gosh, the rest of the day was kind of boring, though. I cleaned house thoroughly, cleaned the outdoor bird feeder and birdbath, and wrote a chunk of my story. That's about it. Oh, and I played with my bluejay for a while, too. His new thing is to grab my necklace and try to stuff it behind my glasses.

Have I mentioned my bluejay Cassidy before? I think I have, once or twice. He's a pretty decent songbird, I have to say. He does a very decent version of Epona's Song, and from there he goes into the first four bars of Aloha 'Oe. I taught him both of those songs; the other things he picked up from hearing them, like whistling for the dogs and my telephone ringing. He does a really good telephone, sometimes I get up to answer it when he does that. He is the most precious little thing.

And now it's time for me to let the dogs out for a pee, and then go get the wicked naughty bad bitey hissy lungey eight pound razor-toothed lizard out and cuddle him for a while.

First, here is a page for Min.