Hair Plugs

An actual conversation at my garage sale today:

Me: "Good morning, how are you?"
Old Man: "As good as a 73 year old man can be."
He sees Ada's crate which is serving as a table to display my items.
"That's a big crate. What do you have? An Akita?"

I was impressed at his guess, as Ada was unhappily cooped up in the back yard.
"Why yes, we do!"

"I like them. My hair is Akita hair."

I thought, "Whaaaaaaaaaaat?", but said, "Oh, really?"

"Yep. I sent a sample of my hair away and the closest match was Akita hair, so they made me plugs out of it. Do you want to feel it?"

I took his word for it, because apparently I can just go pet Ada and it would be the same.

Perfect People

I was in the checkout line of the grocery store when the man behind me with his little daughter complimented me on my hair. I said thank you and turned back to eyeing the silly-but-kind-of-interesting magazine covers thinking that was going to be it. Now, I don't mind talking to strangers so when he started talking on about redheads, I politely returned the conversation. Then he complimented me on my shirt, saying to his daughter, "Isn't orange your favorite color?" Which is fine, but my shirt was definitely yellow. Finally he said this gem: "I think that God needed a way to identify the perfect people in the world, so he gave them red hair."

Hm, I may have agreed with him, but he was a redhead and somewhat of a creeper. There goes that theory.

Not Good Enough

A while ago we were visiting some of Josh's friends from school and we brought blackberry cobbler to share. While we were waiting for them to answer their trendy skyrise-apartment door, a guy came out of the place just next to us. He was stumbling by when he stopped, put his face uncomfortably close to the food I was holding, and said, "Duuuuude, are those brownies?!" I told him no, it was blackberry cobbler. He made a disgusted face and said, "Oh, well never mind then."

"Never mind" what, you possibly drunk, fancy apartment dweller? Whether they were brownies or not, they were not for you. You, who oh so rudely denounced my tasty dessert, were not going to get any anyway!

I was a little offended by this stranger. I got over it when he tripped on the carpet on his way down the hall.

I Understand, Driving Can Make You Thirsty

Josh and I went to Broken Arrow yesterday, and as it is not a long drive, I did not expect anything blog-worthy to happen. However:

We were waiting behind another pick up to turn left at a rather lengthy red light. After a little while of waiting, the driver of that pick up truck opened the door and got out. We didn't have time to wonder what he was doing before he reached into the bed of his truck, which is apparently where he keeps a cooler of cold ones for just such occasions. Yep, he pulled himself a brewsky out of the ice chest, popped the top, got back in the cab, and went on his way when the light turned green. Awesome.

Dude, Google It.

My grocery checker and bagger were having an interesting conversation while taking care of my groceries this week. I tried to stay out of it because it was so darned entertaining that I didn't want to get in the way. They were arguing about whether or not marijuana causes cancer and kills your brain cells. The checker was saying that yes, it does those things, while the bagger was defending what turns out to be his favorite hobby. His best defense was as follows:
"Dude, I do it all the time, and it hasn't made me any less smarter."

That very well could be true, we don't know how dumb he was to begin with.

Not Accepting Applications

I can't believe I haven't blogged this conversation yet.
Scene: Convenience store counter, a large, grey haired, African-American gentleman enters and asks the man behind the counter
"Is that yo' wife?"
"Uhhh, no."
He turns to me
"You got a husband?"
"Yes."
"How many?"
"How many husbands?"
"Yeah."
"Just the one."
"You want another?"
"No, I think I've got my hands full as it is."
"Oh, but do you want to take my application, just in case."
"I don't think that will be necessary..."
"Yeah, I don't have very good references anyway."

Friday?

This precious little old woman came by the office today. She had an appointment at the salon next door, but when she knocked, no one answered. So, we let her wait with us. I got her coffee and a cookie and we chatted about teaching and about being 90. She was here for maybe 10 minutes before she mentioned that today was Friday the 7th. It took some convincing, I had to repeat myself a few times, but she now knows it's Thursday.
She said, "Well, at least it was a nice morning. I made some new friends," and went back home. I guess I'll see her tomorrow morning, too.

Talking to Strangers

Nothing makes you miss Oregon like pulling up to a gas station on a cold, windy day knowing you have to get out of your warm car, brave the elements, and fill up your gas tank yourself. However, this experience was redeemed yesterday by a snippet of conversation with the man filling up on the other side of the pump.
I was minding my own business, watching my money be sucked away, when I hear, "You are a lot braver than I am."
Although I had been singing probably louder than is acceptable in public when there is no music playing, I wasn't sure what he was referring to. So I said, "Pardon?"
"You're wearing a dress out here. It's really cold." He informed me.
"Oh," I said. And knowing perfectly well what he meant, I countered, "Well, sir, you would have to be really brave to wear a dress, that's true."
He didn't look as amused as I was, got in his car, and drove away leaving me to resume my singing.

Speeding Up a Slow Day

I thought maybe a blog would spice up my work day. So in honor of my first post, I will tell a work story.
Yesterday, a man came to have a meeting with my boss. Part of my job is to make small talk in the office so clients don't notice how long they're kept waiting. Usually, it's my favorite part because I think people are interesting. Anyway, this man and I were chatting about Josh being in medical school and how he has to study a lot. And then the man said, "Do you know what helped me in college when I had to study? Speed." This man must have been in his mid to late fifties, by the way. He went on, "Oh, I'd take speed when I needed to focus, and get through material faster." He just chatted casually about it. To me, a complete stranger. I had no idea what to say. Especially to a man so close to senior citizenship. I think I said something like, "Once I drank too much coffee the night before a test and couldn't fall asleep." Oh goodness, we found one of the few topics I can't scrape a conversation out of.
Well, my first blog was neither deep nor meaningful, but I hope it was at least entertaining. I'm glad that it got me through a little part of a slow work day.