Sometimes I go hiking on those days when I don't have to go into the office first thing in the morning.
Sometimes I wear a sweat band on my head hoping to draw attention to my face, so that those trail running pervs will stop staring at my sensational legs and booty.
Sometimes I decide that if I have to go to Wal-Mart (I hate going there, but lately I haven't been able to find the smaller packages of Wholly Guacamole at Fry's or Fresh and Easy) that I'll probably fit in better if I go all sweaty wearing gym clothes and a head band.
Sometimes when I'm driving through the parking lot leaving the Walton's Empire I look around to make sure no one is trying to run up and slash my tires (crazy people hang out around that place).
Sometimes I make eye contact with some boy in his late teens or early twenties but look away at the same pace since I am just scanning the parking lot for vandals and hoodlums.
Sometimes I see the boy waving at me out of the corner of my eye as I am already looking away. So I glance back and see he's still waving at me and has an indignant expression on his face that says "Ummm excuse me, I was totally waving at you..."
Sometimes I realize in that moment that the guy in the parking lot totally wants to get with me, but I have no interest in him, or dudes in general, unless they are dudes that will help me meet women. Which if you think about it, I bet girls love to go shopping with him and that he doesn't complain about having to sit through any movie starring Channing Tatum. He probably has lots of friends who are girls because they know that physical attraction will never get in the way of their friendship. Missed opportunity? Maybe. The quick wave I give back as I drive on past indicates that I'm friendly and sorry for initially ignoring him, but I'm not really sorry.
Sometimes all of this stuff doesn't really happen more than once, but it happened to happen yesterday, which is cool because March 13 is probably the least significant day of this week by normal standards.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Did the Melatonin Do This to Me?
Somehow I was in a field, or a really big yard like people have out in the country. Not sure how I got there, or exactly where I was, but I didn't have time to think about it because the older brother of one of my best friends (who I've never actually just hung out with before) was calling me over to the hockey rink.
The hockey rink was very well built and professional inside. The ice was smooth and I slipped around in my shoes as everyone else glided on their skates. Upon inspecting the perimeter, I happened to find a spare pair of skates on the ice near me. I removed my right shoe and put on a skate and was about to do the same with my left foot when the farmer yelled at me from across the ice that I could skate just fine with just the one skate.
I heeded the old farmers advice and tried skating on one skate while pushing with my other leg and then lifting it off the ground and trying to balance myself. It didn't take long to realize that my movements were not nearly as smooth and graceful as those of the random people I was sharing the ice with so I made my way over to the other spare skate in the back corner. As I bent over and began the process of removing my shoe and putting on the other skate, I noticed blood trickling toward me.
I looked up and saw the farmer holding a rifle and picking off the skaters who had previously been enjoying his facilities. I didn't spend much time thinking about why the blood flowed so far so quickly across the ice or why I noticed it before I heard any gun shots, I just knew I had to get out of there as I was the only person who hadn't been shot yet. I took off running, I don't remember taking of my skates, but luckily by the time I made it to the road that ran by the farmer's house I already had my shoes on.
I ran maybe a few hundred yards before I noticed a horse stable on the side of the road opposite the farmer's estate. As I ran into the stable I startled the man who was inside, feeding his horses. I told him I had to hide because his neighboring farmer was trying to kill me. He told me he had a hard time believing that since he had been neighbors with the farmer for years and couldn't imagine him killing anybody. I told quickly explained how the farmer had shot down everyone who had been ice skating on his property and pleaded with the horse owner to not turn me in, then I stuffed myself into a wooden locker that was no more than three feet tall and three feet wide.
I wasn't in hiding for long before the farmer entered the stable explaining to the horse owner how he was looking for someone who had just left his farm. He had a younger woman with him, probably his daughter. I know because I was watching through the peephole placed conveniently beneath the locker's handle. The young lady began snooping around the stable as the horse owner explained that he hadn't seen me, but didn't inquire about why the farmer was seeking me either.
Meanwhile the snooping girl came dangerously close to my hiding place, I silently shifted my body out of her line of vision as she came up, knelt down, and placed her eye directly in front of the peephole. Luckily she didn't think to open the locker. As the farmer announced their departure and she stood up and followed him out of the stable back toward the farm.
The horse owner left the stable without saying anything to me. I didn't dare leave the locker for hours, maybe days, I really had no concept of time. Eventually the horse owner came back and told me I was safe to come in his house. I exited the locker and followed him.
Upon entering the horse owner's home I went straight to the phone and called 9-1-1. I stared out the window at the farmer's property down the road while the phone rang. After what seemed like way too long someone finally picked up on the other end.
"9-1-1, what is your emergency?" asked the nasal female voice.
"MURDER!" I blurted out, before I had really thought through what else I was going to say.
"Please hold."
HOLD?!?!?! It was murder and they were putting me on hold?!? I started pacing anxiously as I saw the farmer leave his house across the street and begin to stir about his yard. After a few moments that felt like eternity, someone picked up the phone and asked me to explain what happened.
I could tell my story was being received with skepticism. Why would a farmer want to kill people who were simply skating around on ice? I yelled that I didn't have a good explanation but if they didn't get anyone out there soon that I would be the next victim.
As I debated with the man over the phone whether or not it would be a waste of time to send the police out I noticed the farmer had begun to make his way over to the house I was in. I looked out the window in the other direction and saw sirens down the road, but the police had another car pulled over maybe a half a mile away and I couldn't tell if the multiple police cars were tending to an accident or maybe just someone who was speeding down a country road in the middle of nowhere or hadn't completely stopped at a stop sign.
As the farmer got closer to the house the man on the phone reluctantly agreed to send the police over. But would they get there in time? I was nervous but felt a calm assurance that somehow they would get there in time to preserve my life. I never found out, because I woke up.
....yep. I insincerely apologize to anyone who read this entire post, or any portion of it. I could've come up with a better ending, or a better story altogether, but that's how I dreamt it.
The hockey rink was very well built and professional inside. The ice was smooth and I slipped around in my shoes as everyone else glided on their skates. Upon inspecting the perimeter, I happened to find a spare pair of skates on the ice near me. I removed my right shoe and put on a skate and was about to do the same with my left foot when the farmer yelled at me from across the ice that I could skate just fine with just the one skate.
I heeded the old farmers advice and tried skating on one skate while pushing with my other leg and then lifting it off the ground and trying to balance myself. It didn't take long to realize that my movements were not nearly as smooth and graceful as those of the random people I was sharing the ice with so I made my way over to the other spare skate in the back corner. As I bent over and began the process of removing my shoe and putting on the other skate, I noticed blood trickling toward me.
I looked up and saw the farmer holding a rifle and picking off the skaters who had previously been enjoying his facilities. I didn't spend much time thinking about why the blood flowed so far so quickly across the ice or why I noticed it before I heard any gun shots, I just knew I had to get out of there as I was the only person who hadn't been shot yet. I took off running, I don't remember taking of my skates, but luckily by the time I made it to the road that ran by the farmer's house I already had my shoes on.
I ran maybe a few hundred yards before I noticed a horse stable on the side of the road opposite the farmer's estate. As I ran into the stable I startled the man who was inside, feeding his horses. I told him I had to hide because his neighboring farmer was trying to kill me. He told me he had a hard time believing that since he had been neighbors with the farmer for years and couldn't imagine him killing anybody. I told quickly explained how the farmer had shot down everyone who had been ice skating on his property and pleaded with the horse owner to not turn me in, then I stuffed myself into a wooden locker that was no more than three feet tall and three feet wide.
I wasn't in hiding for long before the farmer entered the stable explaining to the horse owner how he was looking for someone who had just left his farm. He had a younger woman with him, probably his daughter. I know because I was watching through the peephole placed conveniently beneath the locker's handle. The young lady began snooping around the stable as the horse owner explained that he hadn't seen me, but didn't inquire about why the farmer was seeking me either.
Meanwhile the snooping girl came dangerously close to my hiding place, I silently shifted my body out of her line of vision as she came up, knelt down, and placed her eye directly in front of the peephole. Luckily she didn't think to open the locker. As the farmer announced their departure and she stood up and followed him out of the stable back toward the farm.
The horse owner left the stable without saying anything to me. I didn't dare leave the locker for hours, maybe days, I really had no concept of time. Eventually the horse owner came back and told me I was safe to come in his house. I exited the locker and followed him.
Upon entering the horse owner's home I went straight to the phone and called 9-1-1. I stared out the window at the farmer's property down the road while the phone rang. After what seemed like way too long someone finally picked up on the other end.
"9-1-1, what is your emergency?" asked the nasal female voice.
"MURDER!" I blurted out, before I had really thought through what else I was going to say.
"Please hold."
HOLD?!?!?! It was murder and they were putting me on hold?!? I started pacing anxiously as I saw the farmer leave his house across the street and begin to stir about his yard. After a few moments that felt like eternity, someone picked up the phone and asked me to explain what happened.
I could tell my story was being received with skepticism. Why would a farmer want to kill people who were simply skating around on ice? I yelled that I didn't have a good explanation but if they didn't get anyone out there soon that I would be the next victim.
As I debated with the man over the phone whether or not it would be a waste of time to send the police out I noticed the farmer had begun to make his way over to the house I was in. I looked out the window in the other direction and saw sirens down the road, but the police had another car pulled over maybe a half a mile away and I couldn't tell if the multiple police cars were tending to an accident or maybe just someone who was speeding down a country road in the middle of nowhere or hadn't completely stopped at a stop sign.
As the farmer got closer to the house the man on the phone reluctantly agreed to send the police over. But would they get there in time? I was nervous but felt a calm assurance that somehow they would get there in time to preserve my life. I never found out, because I woke up.
....yep. I insincerely apologize to anyone who read this entire post, or any portion of it. I could've come up with a better ending, or a better story altogether, but that's how I dreamt it.
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