So here it is...a blog. A forum for my thoughts. Scary. Here goes nothing.
I wanted to start writing about little things that I see everyday. One of my favorite things to do is report to my friends, family, clients, or really whoever will listen, about the little things I see in my daily life that make me laugh and the lessons those observations tend to teach me. I think people are hilarious, naturally hypocritical and beyond ironic. How can we not be fascinated with each other? Okay, we are...it's called reality TV.
This blog (why does it have to sound like Blah and gag together? Like it's already expected to be a nasty pile of crap before you even read it because it sounds that way)...this blah-gag will probably merely serve as a means of journaling my experiences for my own sake, but if anyone can find some joy out of my stories, then this blog was worth figuring out how to make.
My first little story is called "Taking Your Moment". Here's what happened:
I was at the grocery store today, in a hurry as usual. I had to go the bathroom right as I got in the store. Good. I'll be quick. I ran through the whole store with just a hand held basket which, of course, had way too much in it for those little metal handles to handle...oh boy...already making silly writing jokes on here...okay!
So I'm about to check out when I remember that I wanted some strawberries. Right! Okay, turning around, breaking the basket, hurting my hands and wrists, sweating a little, feeling impatient...whoa almost tripped and weaving in and out of people, there they are and boom! I am cut off by an old man! Not just any old man...an adorable, completely oblivious old man, who pushed his cart right in front of me, blocking me from grabbing my last item. He, obviously, was not trying to ruin my mission, but he did. Here's why...
He stops in front of the strawberries, not because he needs them, but because at that particular moment in time, he decided to "take his moment". He stops (I then stop). He stares into oblivion (I stare at him). He furrows his brow and flexes his neck muscles (I raise my eyebrows)....and just when I start to think hes having a heart attack (I studied exercise science in school...I know the signs!) he let's out the softest, but very audible and quite lengthy FART I've ever heard. The kind only an oblivious old man could release in public.
Without a reaction or even a look around to see if anyone heard, saw or smelled his "moment", the old man moves on. There I was, left staring at an old man gas bubble looming over my strawberries, probably sinking into my strawberries, by now. I had to make a decision...walk through the old man gas bubble, or forget the berries all together? Again, I'll be quick...how bad could it be? So, I braved it....much to my chagrin.
If you've never experienced a stranger's farts before, it somehow seems a little less painful when the enemy doesn't have a face. When you know the culprit, and he's a precious old man, you start to feel bad for finding his stench so appalling. But, I must give the old man credit....he had no hesitation and no remorse. He took his moment and let it go....on my strawberries.
Lessons: 1. Take my time. 2. Never feel responsible for the state of others when I need to take a moment (this should come in handy in the bathroom at the movie theater on a Saturday night).
Thanks old man.
