If someone would kindly tell me what is up, if I have the words “CUT HERE” written on my back in letters of flame invisible only to me, or what, I would sure appreciate it. Sunday night, the scene was as follows: I am standing in line at the McDonald’s in the bus station, needing nothing more desperately than I need fries and a shake, arteries be damned. There is one person in front of me paying, and one person in front and to the left of me, gathering his straws and whatnot. Suddenly another guy appears – tall, leather jacket, surly, possibly a bit crazy, in demeanor. He sort of capers up to the straw gatherer, stands next to him, and says something meant to sound like a familiar greeting, but it comes off a bit too aggressive, or something. Straw Guy looks bewildered. While this all happens, my sluggish brain is trying to sound the alarm bell (“Something’s up, yo! Straw Guy does not know this guy! Why is he in front of you?”), but the system has had a rough day and it’s not getting through fast enough. Paying guy finishes, and, you guessed it, Surly/Crazy slides right on in front to place his order. For which he does not have enough money. So there has to be a discussion about why the Supersize Manly Meal #5, or whatever, costs more than five dollars. And it is oh, so hard to pick out a drink, you know? Etc.
This whole time I am standing there, staring at the back of his bony head, and…I just can’t. I can’t say or do anything. For one thing, after a day that began with cramming my dad’s entire life into a 5x10 storage space and ended with a particularly unhappy visit to the nursing home I’ve seen way too much of, but not nearly as much as Dad has, in the last week, after having to weigh options that I have never even dreamed of before, all of them unpleasant, after being confronted time and again with situations for which I have no preparation and no reference, I just don’t have the energy to commit even one more self-directed act. For another thing, I have pretty much had it with the stress thing, and I am a little afraid that if there is another dismissive Stay-Put situation I will actually end up in jail this time. Or in the hospital myself, since, for a third thing, there is something a little scary about Surly/Crazy and he is bigger than me.
Oh, and then the shake machine was broken.
But yeah, if anyone has a handy guide to looking less like someone you can cut in line, and also less like someone you pick to sit next to when the bus is full, that would be just super.
Posted by hilatron at February 18, 2004 09:49 AM | TrackBackI have no real tips, except that since coming back from Turkey where first-come first-served conduct is completely unknown, I have no trust of anyone here and I just look surly and jumpy every time I'm in a line, waiting for a table, etc. And then I freak out at anyone who looks at me funny. That might work. Are you home now?
Posted by: EV at February 18, 2004 12:11 PMMy tip for preventing people from sitting next to you on the bus: blowing your nose. Nobody wants to sit next to a sicky. Coughing is even better, but takes a little more effort.
Posted by: Jellybean at February 18, 2004 01:02 PMBlowing, sure, or how about picking? I've never had the guts to try it, but I've always kind of wanted to.
I don't get cut off in line all that often, so I can't offer you any tips there, but I get interrupted while speaking, and it makes me frustrated in the same way. So I do sympathize.
What a terrible week you have had! I am sorry to hear about all you have been going through. When I don't want people to approach me or mess with me, I pretend I am a sea urchin with all those spiny things shooting out in every direction. This usually works; I guess my body language conveys my mindset...
Posted by: She-Dork at February 19, 2004 12:28 AMcall me paranoid (everyone else does), but after reading your description of this fellow, i think you did the right thing not to interact with him. i mean, is five minutes of extra waiting really worth some sick creep following you home shouting insults or worse?
that said, the night we got home from morocco and had to walk home in freezing rain wearing sandles and carrying lots of saharan vessels and various heavy berber things some crazy-haired amsterjunkie pestered michelle for money moments after she stubbed her toe on a cobblestone and she totally shouted him down and he was like, "you're fuckin' crazy! get away from me!" and ran away. so i don't know, maybe out-crazying people works.
much love to you hilatron. sick fathers are such heavy things. i wish i could abduct you guys for a long rest-cure!
Posted by: tree at February 19, 2004 09:39 AMYou know what is my personal equivalent of being cut in line? Not being recognized by people who I have already met! I HATE when someone (friend of friend, business related person, etc) extends their hand to "introduce" themselves to me, and I have to go along with pretending that we've never met. This has happened to me enough to make me comment upon it? Why is my fabulous beauty, sparkling wit and razor sharp intelligence not making a lasting impression? Have you met any other Glitter Biscuits before? I THINK NOT. Have you met numerous people with my physical appearance and funky last name? I THINK NOT. So , WHAT is up people?
Posted by: Captain Gb at February 19, 2004 01:51 PMi've stopped flipping my lid at strangers too. it's a good thing, i think. and i'm so sorry about the pops. being an adult sucks.
Posted by: j at February 25, 2004 04:36 PM