Bulges and detours and dead ladies
My hands feel overly dry this morning. I'm having problems picking up staple and such.
Well
another Wednesday is upon us.
This morning when I was getting dressed I pulled out a pair of pants from the closet. I had worn these pants only once before. One day at work I had split my pants and I had to run to k-mart and buy another pair. (What is particularly sad about that statement is it had happened before) So I bought the pants
put them on at k-mart
and lived out the rest of the work day in them before I retired them to the laundry queue.
Well
they showed up again this morning. I pulled them on and looked down and realized they were some horrible pants. The fabric is made from some sort of stretchy polymer that was probably designed to conform to an aging Elvis pelvis. As a result I could easily pull them on and fasten the waist
but the fabric had pulled so tight it looked like I was wearing superhero tights. I'm not a bulge kind of guy. If I'm wearing pants that show off a bulge in my crotch
I know the pants are showing off other unsightly parts of my anatomy. Sure enough when I backed into a mirror and checked out my rear view that fabric was so sight across my rump you could see a reflection of light on it. I felt a sudden flush
horrified that I had worn these to work once. Oh well
I hide in my cube most of the day. I doubt anyone either noticed or cared.
The pants went into the rag bucket.
On the way to work this morning there were detour signs. What was odd was I could not figure where the detour was supposed to be. There did not seem to be a slight flow of traffic from people taking a detour. To be honest the looked a bit like the signs were scattered around randomly. And now it's stuck in my mind? Where did this detour go? Why is it there? Should I have taken the detour? Detour. Deeeeetour. What an odd word. Probably came from the same language 'garage' came from.
There is a tiny Mexican restaurant in downtown Sanford. It's sign contains cactus wearing a cowboy hat and is about to pull a gun on a chili pepper. I do not recall the name of the restaurant
just those little drawings. I'll have to snap a picture of it. I wonder if it holds some sort of Mexican symbolism. Perhaps the cactus is 'the man' coming down hard on the average pepper.
There is another sign I need to snap a picture of. It's for an auto shop in downtown Sanford. It's sign looks like one of those happy grateful dead bears
but instead of going a groovy peace loving trip
it has instead spiraled to the brink of insanity. It's not calling out in joy
it's yowling in the unimaginable pain that only the terminally insane can experience.
Long
long time ago I had a psychology professor in college who used to work with mental patients. He once told us of some fat black woman who was convinced she was dead. No one could convince her she was alive. He even stuck a needle in her so that she would bleed
and asked 'Do dead people bleed?' and she said 'I guess so!'
I would so love to get drunk and have a conversation with that woman.
Back To Archives