duck-shaped pain

Most of these happen while standing in line, especially at the grocery store. I've thought about it and I guess the reason is because I'm not friendly enough, nor am I scary enough. Genuine friendly people have conversations with other genuine friendly people about normal things: the price of bacon, what a nice purse/tie/sequin-embellished sweatshirt that is, etc. Really scary people instill fear in the people who deserve it.

I, on the other hand, look unfriendly enough to ward off the normal people, yet pleasant enough to attract those who have something really pressing to get off of their chests.

Tonight, I went to Safeway in spite of my better judgement. I was feeling crappy and much sicker thant I have the last few days, and was in search of some lemons, my favorite sick-day hot tea, and some bubble bath. [2] I was in no mood to mess around.

I got into the express lane, behind a woman buying five boxes of nasal spray and in front of another woman, this one buying three large BUCKETS of ice cream. I stood there, spacing out for a big, and then I noticed that Ice Cream Woman was trying to speak to me.

"Oh, I had a horrible night. I was in the emergency room waiting and waiting and I just got out."

I'm trying, lately, to be more patient and charitable with people. So I thought to myself, this woman is only trying to let off some steam. She's had a horrible time and you looked like someone who might understand. Humor her.

So I made all sorts of nice-sounding, understanding kind of sounds while this woman proceeded to tell me about how her husband shot himself in the arm that afternoon trying to hunt himself a bear. She actually used the phrase "Blooie! Then the blood was everywhere" and finished up by saying that she hoped the three tubs of ice cream she way buying would be an acceptable substitute for missing out on his prize bear.

How do you respond to that?

I suppose I was lucky. It's not the oddest conversation I've ever had in a checkout line. One time I was waiting innocently in Fred Meyer trying to buy cigarettes when the guy in front of me turned around and old me how excited he was that he had discovered a new form of carbon.

It might have been less weird if it had been just some random weird guy, but no -- this guy had the manner and certain gravitas of someone who had spent years experimenting and calculating and then finally, that afternoon, had reached his goal of a new form of carbon. I congratulated him and offered him a smoke, which he seemed to appreciate.

[1] Not as much as my friend Z., though. While he really hasn't been walking through life carrying a big sign that read "FREAKS, PLEASE TALK TO ME," it just seems that way sometimes.

[2] Which I did not buy, since Safeway went upscale with their bath products. No bubble bath there was less than $8, which I would gladly pay somewhere else but Safeway, but all I really wanted was a big jug of that really cheesy cheap $2-a-bottle purple or pink (always "lilac" or "rose" scent) bubble bath, the type you get your grandma for Christmas when you're five.

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