A Little G in a Big D

Yes, two posts in one day. Unbelievable.

[sorry, I'm bored and putting off work around the house]

So, for about the last week I’ve noticed something weird — when I’m out and about in public, a lot of folks stare at me … just for a second or two, then look away (usually when I’ve made eye contact back). I know what you’re thinking, but this is way beyond my (healthy) paranoia, mind you. This is real. I swear!

Today at the grocery store* it all came to head. Aisle after aisle, I got “the stare.” Pimple-faced stock boys, cute soccer moms, little old men searching for the perfect loaf of bread — they all did it. Now, it’s not a “damn that guy is good looking!” stare (I ended up marrying the one and only girl who I’m told looked at me that way, if that tells you anything); and it’s not really the “Oh God … is that urine all over his trousers!?” stare, either (I haven’t seen that one in a few years, thankfully).

I finally put my finger on it, somewhere around aisle six (condiments … my favorite!).

About three weeks ago, I stopped shaving my head. Just got boring, really, plus I actually enjoy having hair, even if it is slipping away like Roger Clinton on a bender (that has to make sense to someone!! … Dan??).

Anyway, having done the whole “suddenly stop shaving my head” thing before, I’ve learned an important lesson — if anything, it proves to that, despite all my statements otherwise, I DO NOT do a good job of trimming my own hair. In fact, it sort of sucks, and becomes really, really apparent as the follicles grow out …

The small picture may not do it justice — click on the image for a larger view.

Man, I’m a little scary looking. I could totally pass for someone who’s deprogramming from a cult …

… or hanging out way too long in aisle six, stocking up on mustard before heading to the woods in anticipation of the rabbit-led Armageddon that’s sure to come.

See, they only look cute and fuzzy … now.

- gerry -

* also at the grocery store earlier, I had one of my new favorite “overheard” experiences … if only I lived in New York City!! So I’m rounding aisle seven (coffee, tea, sugar), when I hear the guy over in six (mustard!!) say, “But I told you, I can never get my bitches to do that, Frank.”

… My God! A real life pimp, right here in the store! I had to take a look, so I pretended to read a box of Darjeeling while waiting for him to round the corner … which he eventually did … with a cart full of dog food … from aisle nine. Damn. That’ll teach me to get my hopes up.

For the most part, I consider myself a neat person. I try to keep a tidy kitchen, do my best to keep the bathroom sanitary, and about once every couple of weeks, Michelle and I are motivated to do a “big” clean — vacuuming, sweeping and moping, maybe even a little dusting. We could do more, I’m sure, but we could do a lot less, to boot.

That said, my Achilles heel has always been glasses. Glasses, mugs, cups, bottles, cans, etc. Basically, if it at one time contained a beverage of sorts, I am oblivious to it.

Anybody remember the crappy alien movie “Signs“? Don’t worry if not — really bad movie. Anyway, there’s this character in the movie — a little girl — who leaves half-full glasses of water all over the house. They can’t seem to stop her, and of course, it turns out later that (sorry if this ruins the movie for you) the aliens are actually “allergic” to water (it basically kills them), so it was, in fact, rather fortuitous that this little girl had such a nasty habit; when the bad aliens come a knockin’, they’re easily put down by her myriad glasses of water.

I wish I had that excuse, but, a.) I don’t think aliens will come anytime soon; and, b.) I doubt they’ll be allergic to water. With my luck, the water may actually be good for them, and I can look forward to about seven hours of “probing” before they decide to eat my brain.

Sadly, my habit is just that — a bad one. I don’t even know why I do it … absentmindedness, most likely. Still, it’s an annoying activity, one I’ve tried desperately to break. It’s such an eyesore …

I leave glasses all over the bedroom …

Many end up in the bathroom …

And still, the odd one comes to rest on the floor …

Fortunately, I think I finally have a reason to snap out of it. How, you ask? Well, take my desk this morning …

Now, which one of these glasses do you think is:

1. Partially full of luke-warm coffee I’d meant to take a sip of before refilling with fresh brew.

2. An empty cup, which has probably been on my desk about a week, judging from the crusty remnants of French press on the bottom.

3. A partially full mug of tea I’d made a few days ago, sipped some of and forgotten about it. Cold, a little moldy — definitely wouldn’t taste good.

So, which one do you think I unwittingly grabbed after playing with the cats for a few minutes?

Ya, that one.

So, I think I finally learned my lesson … Now I know to put glasses in the sink (or dishwasher, better still) when I’m done with them … Plus, I learned exactly what combination of taste and smell would send me to the bathroom for a half-hour.

Oy vey.