Ok, So I’m in college about 10 years back and roomed with this guy named Joe. Dude is Steve Urkel levels of clumsy. Except life isn’t a sitcom. Dude broke his arm twice in the year I knew him. I was about to get married at this point in time when he walks in on she and I kissing, he didn’t expect us there and wound up tripping, falling into a glass top coffee table. Doctors couldn’t save his eye. He’s having to wear a sterile cotton thing on his eye during the healing process.
Well, fiancee feels guilty because we startled him to begin with. She basically nurses him back to health. During this time, I had realized that I knew absolutely nothing about the guy. Anytime I’d ask where his home town was, she’d tell me “not now” or something similar.
Anyway, he gets healed up and she fell for him. Nightingale syndrome hard. They get up, pack everything and leave. No note, no nothing, no phone calls. Not even a “fuck you go to hell.” Haven’t heard from them since.
In short.
If it weren’t for cotton eyed Joe, I’d been married a long time ago. Where did you come from where did you go? Where did you come from Cotton Eyed Joe.
This is the only picture on my computer that can adequately express the rage I’m feeling right now
– The guy in front of you in class is shopping for a charcoal grill on ebay. why. sir. we have a test next week.
– Squirrels just….have no fear. None. Only on college campuses though. Are they okay?
– Finding condoms, packaged and not, in various places. 9 times out of 10, if there’s something inside, it’s not what the condom is supposed to have inside of it.
– Water balloon condoms. See above.
– That one guy who wears the same hat every day and you see him every day and you don’t understand why he’s so attached to this hat what is he hiding
– *single flake of snow appears* “Maybe campus will shut down tomorrow.”
– Campus doesn’t shut down. There’s three feet of snow and the wind chill is below zero.
– That one corner of the library basement that no one goes to. It smells old and there’s probably a ghost there.
– When you’re a pedestrian, you hate the cyclists. When you’re on a bicycle, you want nothing more than to run every single person over.
– You see someone violently acting out a music video with their headphones in. You leave them alone because you were doing the same thing thirty minutes ago. You hope it goes well for them.
– Theater majors. Just…theater majors.
– do the science kids???? ever leave the science buildings???? where do they sleep?
– There’s a dog. It’s surrounded in seconds by over-caffeinated, under-hydrated students who haven’t slept in three days.
– you find articles of clothing in really weird places and just. stop caring. glove in a tree? Cool man. Sock on the street? Hope no one needed that. Pants on the stairs of the dorm? Use a condom bro.
– The dorm lobby television only ever plays sports, news, or The Food Network. No one is ever actually watching what’s on.
– how are the art students even alive
– that one professor that EVERYONE on campus knows, even if they have a completely different major than what they teach.
– there’s a class. you know you had it. you know you have a grade for it. you can’t remember a single second of your time in it.
– Where did that cat come from? No one knows. It’s always been there. You can’t pet it. Only stare from afar.
– what is tipping? how does it work? idk tip the pizza guy five bucks for the ten dollar pizza. he looks tired. he’s dying on the inside. he saw a guy naked tonight.
– Inevitable “pinned condom on the bulletin board goes missing” gag
– Your whiteboard markers are missing again. You put them out yesterday.
– someone stole an entire skeleton from the science buildings. it got returned a week later without the skull.
– Vocalist majors. Almost as bad as the theater majors. At least the theater kids don’t sing during breakfast.
– there’s a piano in the student lounge. no one can play anything but Chopsticks and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
– your garbage is four feet tall and has been there for two weeks. you add more to the top. you took the recycling out yesterday.
So if my students finish a quiz/test early, I ask them to draw me stuff on the back (partly so those who need more time are less self-conscious about still having the test out, partly because fuck yeah, pictures), and it may be the single best decision of my career.
In the past couple of weeks, I’ve told these kids that (a) the Romans believed there were demons in their public toilets and (b) the word for “janitor” comes from “ianitor”, which means “(door) guard”.
So now I’m getting drawings of superhero janitors taking on toilet demons, and it’s so beautiful.
Aaaaand today a student showed me a video of himself lighting a fire in his toilet while chanting the conjugation of the word “to be”.
He said he wanted to recreate the ancient toilet demons, and I have concerns.
K… but why conjugations of to be?
My students kept forgetting how to conjugate esse, so I turned it into a rhythmic chant that I had them say over and over. The problem is that when you chant ANYTHING in Latin it sounds like you’re summoning a demon, which they decided was awesome, so uh. Now I’ll just be randomly walking through the hallway and hear voices chanting, “sum es est! sumus estis sunt!”
I’m 99% sure my colleagues think I’ve started a cult.
Keep doing what you’re doing. I’m sure everyone will turn out all the better for it.
Today a 27-year-old man I was taking care of in the hospital asked if I could help him get boosted up in his hospital bed because, and I quote, “You look strong. Like, you look like you could take a motherfucker out.”
That is the most flattering thing that a patient has ever said to me, and I’m counting the little old lady who told me my eyebrows were beautiful, and the very deaf old German man who yelled at me that I was “WONDERFUL!!! MADE BY GOD TO BE A NURSE!!!!!”
so, i only went in to get the shiny silvally code. should’ve taken like a minute or two at most but i was in there for upwards of ten. it was deeply unsettling right off the bat when i walked in because it was quiet. like really quiet. the tv that plays the gaming news and the speaker that plays the ads weren’t running. the cashier says hello and i get in line to wait. it is dead silent. nobody in the store is making any noise except for the cashier, who is typing. she’s helping a little boy sell 12 PS4 games. the boys mom is walking back and forth behind him sipping her gas station brand cup of coffee. literally just walking back and forth from one end of the store to the other. all the while the entire store is silent, the kid is silent, the mom is silent… all 5 of the other full grown adults in this store are silent. and i’m the only one in line behind this kid, these other adults throughout the store are like standing in one space just staring and being quiet. they weren’t browsing, they weren’t talking. nobody was making any noise. i wasn’t making any noise. i was standing there thinking about how eerily silent it was in this gamestop and wondering what the hell was going on – hyper aware of every move i made because i didn’t want to make a noise and break the silence. this carried on for literally 10 minutes before another cashier came in through the front door and loudly exclaimed “i can’t leave you alone for five minutes.” he called me to the counter and asked me what i needed help with. it was like immediately the ambient noises of gamestop all returned at once and i stepped forward to get my code.
my favorite part of this is the implication that not only was the first cashier somehow responsible for the eerie silence to begin with but also that this has certainly happened before
i used to get self-conscious over the smallest things but friends let me tell you that today i had to smuggle a furious 8ft python onto the bus during the school rush and not a single person noticed. not one. if people don’t care enough to notice a shopping bag writhing and seething with barely-contained reptilian hatred then i promise you that no-one will pay any attention to that blemish you’re fretting about or how you’ve done your hair
Question, why are you bringing a 8 ft python into a public bus? You know that this reptile can kill anyone inside there?
buddy she’s a snake not a flying death tentacle
snakes are not evil killers out for blood, and length doesn’t mean lethality! my biggest guy is 11 ft– if i have him around my neck, both his face and his tail touch the floor– and even his species struggles to take down anything bigger than a small-to-medium dog
the worst damage that my 8fter is capable of is when she decides to do an impression of a blood-pressure cuff and makes my arm go a bit purple, and even that’s just when i humour her dreams of being big and scary and let her squeeze her hardest before i unwind her like a bratty garden hose
as long as you’re not some sort of magical tumblring rat, you’re fine
Okay, I gotta ask…
1. Why was she angry?
2. Where were you taking her on the bus? Is there a leash-free snake park where you live?
I need to know.
1. she’s a cranky ass in general, but her mood was absolutely not improved by eating a bit of a snake hook, getting stuffed in a sack, experiencing an hour of adelaide’s finest public transport, and having a vet jam a tube into her stomach
2. i think all of australia is technically a leash-free snake park tbh
I am so glad there was follow up on this post explaining why the snake was on the bus!!!
there’s a guy in one of my classes who i am secretly battling for dominance over by wearing awful hipster outfits. i dont know if he is thinking the same thing but regardless i intend to win
i thought i won today when i walked into class wearing my awful 1995 figure skating tour of the world (sponsored by campbells soup) t-shirt, mom jeans, and 1980 moscow olympics-theme denim jacket but then he had to walk in wearing a donald duck jacket with matching donald duck socks like what a fucking power move
Tonight I may have had an encounter with the smoothest human being on earth.
As many of you know I work as an actor in a haunted house. This is a fun job for many reasons, but witnessing people’s reactions to being scared is by far the best. I’m a scare window actor, which means I hide behind a section of the wall that is held up by a latch that I can lift and drop away suddenly, scaring people with both my scream, and the loud sound my window makes upon being dropped. I have a small hole drilled in the wall to look through to see people passing.
The smoothest human being on the planet wore a white hoodie. He came in a group with three other friends. I did not expect to scare him much. After a while you can kind of gauge just by what you can glimpse from your peephole whether someone will be a good scare or not. Men in their 20’s in a mixed group of friends typically do not get scared easily. But this guy was wearing white in my blacklight-equipped hallway, so he had made himself an easy target and I had to take advantage.
I dropped my window precisely when he was in front of it.
He leapt back toward the wall on the other side of my narrow hallway and his drew back his arm like he meant to punch me.
“This is it.” I thought. “I’m finally going to be socked in the face for scaring someone.”
But I was wrong.
His arm kept curling back behind his head. Smoothly, flawlessly, effortlessly he tucked his hand behind his head, leaned back on the wall opposite me, and propped a foot up on the plywood frame of my open window, reclining with ease.
“So, come here often?” He asked.
All of this occurred within the span of a second. Maybe two.
I was shook. I was stunned. I almost broke character.
I shrugged. “Only on the weekends.” I replied with my character voice. His group laughed. He double finger gunned me and walked on.
I will never forget him.
I cannot stress enough how perfect his transition from his fear reaction to his playboy act was. It flowed so naturally.
Omg so I’m at the cafe by campus and this guy came in and went to hug this chick but she went in for a fist bump
OK OMG SHE SAT HIM DOWN AND SAID “I think we should break up”
I’m legit 3 feet away from them pretending to be invested in my science book
She said “it’s not you it’s me” and before he could respond the barista called his name. It’s Bob. Poor Bob
The move was effective. The lady looks defensive
Bob has come back.
It was a few minutes of awkward silence as he took a sip of his drink. It’s the same kind as mine. Meaning he ordered Hot Chocolate
He started out with “You know, I think.” And I could hear this lady’s eyes roll. No one cares what you think Robert
FINGERS ARE FLYING. SHE POINTING AT HIM. SHIT IS GETTING REAL.
she calmed down and he legit did that thing where you steppe you fingers together in front of your mouth and take a huge breath. Bro. Leave it. It’s done. She’s too pretty for you.
He freaking snapped his fingers like he’s got this grand plan to make up for things.
She Said she still wants to be friends. She starts this by asking about his day
Apparently something bob said made her laugh.
She has not been able to say a word since she got him talking. It’s too loud in the cafe for me to make out anything even tho I’m legit behind this chick
He talking about his struggles now and how much he needs her. Run lady. Run. Run far away.
She tried to get up and his hAND SHOT OUT TO GRAB HERS
She’s literally folded in herself. Hands not going out further than the table. Limited hand movements.
Now she’s talking about her self. He doesn’t look that invested.
“well some people are bitchy” -bob
Lady does not have a drink. I don’t think she planned on being here this long.
Bob is again talking about himself 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 no one cares bob.
Well he said something that made her laugh again. It sounded fake tho.
He’s talking about school. APPARENTLY HE IS A PROFESSOR
“Promiscuousness leads to disease” -Bob again.
I’m done with my hot chocolate and I don’t know if the bitter taste in my mouth is from the chocolate residue I drank or my disdain for Professor Bob.
She adjusted her chair so she’s further away
SHE GOT UP! She went to take her purse but bob said to leave and he would watch it. I think she’s headed to the bathroom.
I can’t leave! But he’s doing that voice to text thing for his phone. Talking to someone about this? Idk?
I’m trying to figure out what he’s saying by looking at his lips but I suck as this. Also where are his lips?? Bob is lipless. Further proof that lizard people exist.
I just noticed the lady left her phone in her purse.
Ok she’s coming back. She is pretty. Too pretty for Bob. But probs old enough to be my mom.
He’s talking about his students again.
She was talking and he interrupted her and she was like “I was talking” and he like flinched and he apologized. Yes queen.
“but this is why this democracy is at its purest.” Wtf Bob that doesn’t make sense
They’re talking so quietly now I can’t hear them.
“I should have said this a long time ago. But I can’t get anyone to love me” -Bob what the fuck.
“I feel like I’m projecting my self onto you” -bob once again
She’s leaving! She said something about picking up her son, Kevin, from school. Good job lady!
HOLY SHIT HES REACHING INTO HIS PANTS WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF
*pocket. But still.
HE PULLED OUT A RING BUT THE CHICK IS ALREADY OUT THE DOOR. OMG
OMG OMG OMG ITS A MENS RING!! HE PUT IT ON HIS HAND HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT. HES PICKING UP HIS PHONE
“Hey babe, nah sorry about not answering your call. I was in a meeting with a student. I’m leaving my office now. Yeah I can pick up dinner. Is Tanner home from school yet?”
A really harrowed-looking man who was probably in his 60s came into the shop today. He was wearing a gold-colored tie that kept sliding down the side of his neck because it was tied very poorly, and a rumpled light blue dress shirt. I did not see his legs or shoes. Part-time cashiers are sometimes just not afforded the luxury.
We said hello to each other as I scanned his items (diet coke and a nature valley granola bar- $2.69), me sounding more interested than usual just because he sounded so out-of breath and very engaged in his purchase. Also maybe because I could not see his shoes.
“How’s your life going?” He suddenly asked, swiping his card, not casually but almost pleadingly curious.
“Uhm, all right I s’pose” I said, too startled to think of a more cheery lie.
He nodded somberly. “Me too… I guess.” He paused and looked at me for a minute and then just said “it’s a Monday, ya know.”
“Mondays are like this sometimes” I supplied, feeling like we were having a really weird conversation hidden under the one that was actually taking place.
And then he left. I forgot to look at his shoes.
PART II
Honestly I had no idea that I would ever have the privilege of writing a sequel to this post. I considered it an odd moment, an interaction that changed me in a way, but a fleeting one. I automatically assumed our paths would never cross again, there was such a finality to that window of time on Monday August 22nd of 2016. And yet.
He returned.
I didn’t truly notice him come in, glancing up from whatever menial and already forgotten task I was busy with, but not registering who it was or why he seemed to put out an aura of familiarity. It had been weeks and I haven’t even caught a glimpse of him; the memory of Monday August 22nd of 2016 had faded like a dream. But lo he appeared before me, dressed in exactly the same fashion that made him look like he had just crawled out of carwash (albeit with a pink shirt and purple tie this go-around.)
His face lit up when he saw me, again holding a diet coke and a nature valley granola bar. ‘How is your day going?’ He asked earnestly.
‘Pretty well.’ I said, professionally containing myself, “how are you?”
“I’m good, I’m good” he said, sounding more cheerful than before but just as harried. When I handed him back his change and items and he looked like he was going to cry.
“Thank you” he whispered with a look of reverence I have only seen on the faces of ancient church members receiving the eucharist.
“It’s no trouble,” I promised, trying not to look perplexed.
He bowed (LITERALLY BOWED) and then made a hurried exit stage left, reminiscent of Lear just before the second act, halfway into madness.
A Lear I had again forgotten to note the footwear of.
PART. 3.
Okay I’m not even bothering with the pretentious Hemingway style for this one; I’m still reeling over the fact that he came back after four months AND on a Friday instead of a Monday no less.
Notes:
He was wearing literally the exact same shirt and tie he had on from part one, only with an orange sweater and fancy jacket over the ensemble to indicate that it was winter
He bought Lay’s sour cream and onion potato chips this time instead of his standard granola bar, but the diet coke was as usual
He told me that he always felt guilty for buying snack food but ‘you have to do what you have to do’
He then smiled sadly at me and said ‘enjoy your weekend… If you can.’
I sat in stunned, unblinking silence for about six minutes until a customer came up and looked me over worriedly
Who is this man
WHY DO I KEEP FORGETTING TO LOOK AT HIS SHOES
Part Four
First thing’s first,
Probably about two years of wear on them but otherwise well cared for. Socks were white, which I was only able to notice because this human being has zero clothes that fit and his pant cuffs were hovering about 3 inches away from his shoes. I keep thinking his outfits can’t possibly get any better, but this one takes the cake:
Crumpled white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, gigantic scarf that looked as though it were made out of mouldy carpet, neon orange striped tie, and a matching neon orange plastic digital watch that probably came out of a box of honeycombs back in 1988.
He did not grace me with his odd conversational charm today, but I received something better. A clue.
Today he was buying a red notebook and three ballpoint pens instead of snacks (which was questionable but this is a Thursday we’re talking about; the day that falls on the chaotic spectrum and which I am known for my overzealous distrust of), and when he pulled out his luxury black Mastercard to pay for his items he said eight words which shook me to my very core.
“I do get a staff discount on these.”
This has never come up before because discount plans don’t apply to food items. I have no need to ask the identity of a man buying a granola bar and a diet coke. But now.
I didn’t speak as I handed him his receipt, just nodded courteously. Only staff members know about the specific discount so I had no real need to ask for an ID for proof, and I was cursing my mistake in not asking for it anyway.
I must find this man. I have been here for three years and yet have only seen him within the confines of the store at odd intervals. I’ve never even seen him step into the store, or leave (another customer is somehow always in line behind him and demanding my attention.) I spent half an hour going through the college’s entire staff directory this afternoon… and may have found something. I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, I am not yet certain and will have to gather a few more items of information, but for the first time I can promise a part to follow. Perhaps, an ending.
Cinq
Not an ending of any sort, but a very brief update from the field. My work schedule has changed since January and I was honestly beginning to wonder if I wouldn’t see the man again until the fall, as it’s been more than two months now. He startled me quite a bit when he literally blew in as if by a gust of wind right as my shift was ending.
He was in quite a hurry and only bought a diet coke ($1.50) before blustering(?) off, giving me no chance to run an investigation or perception check, but if fashion checks were a thing…
Please imagine, if you will, a man wearing a yellow polka-dot tie that was not even tied, an orange scarf, the watch mentioned in my previous entry, khakis, a bright periwinkle shirt… and an impeccably matching woolen periwinkle cape. He was also carrying a very large black satchel with tartan lining, every single pocket of which was unzipped.
He looked like a hedge wizard.
I want answers.
6.
I found him.
Masters in theology from Harvard
Distinguished professor of philosophy
God-tier identification photo; I cannot believe that I have not been hallucinating this man for the past 12 months and 41 days.
sparksoffandommagic 