Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Chipotle Diaper

I know what’s going to happen next......

I don’t exactly know how to explain this.  Yes, I know this will sound completely crazy, but I gotta get this out in the open.

I can tell what’s going to happen next.  It’s a sense, or a feeling, or a gut reaction many times.  Maybe I read The Celestine Prophecies one too many times..... But those insights are there, nonetheless.  When you meet new people, and you spend a few minutes with them, you know right away whether you’re going to be friends, more than friends, or you’ll be dividing their body parts into separate plastic bags by the end of the night.  It’s uncanny really, I don’t know exactly how I do it.

Case in point.  Couple of weeks back, I met a person who was quite fond of themselves.  You know the type, the kind of person who’s comments always seem to wind the conversation back around to them?  You know the type of story, that you begin, to explain to a newcomer how you got to where you are.... In less than two minutes, you’re talking about their life story, and how important they have been to everyone in their lives, and now YOU’RE going to be professing your undying gratitude to them, as they’ve gracefully waltzed into your pathetic life at just the right moment.  They’ve drawn me in by saying Hello, and now I’m cornered in the corner of the bar.

As I stare deep into my pint glass, half listening to the machine gun fire of syllables that sound in my head like clickclickbuzzbuzzblahblahblahblahblahclickbuzzclick, I try to figure out if I can silently break this glass and fashion it into a shiv by wrapping the shards up in a bevnap, then inserting it into their aorta, or swiftly reach over and twist this person’s head round rapidly, breaking their neck, and would anyone notice their lifeless body in a heap on the floor next to my barstool and would they blame me or would it be considered self defense?  I balk at both scenarios and choose to selfishly order another pint.  Maybe the lager will deaden the noise blaring out of their pie hole and into my right ear.  For now my plan is delayed.... For now.

Usually at some point in time EVERYONE has to go to the bathroom.  Apparently this person is wearing Depends, and can just pee themselves and keep yammering on.  I contemplate this concept for a moment, as there’s been a couple times in my life where I think the adult diaper would have come in handy.  I shudder at my ridiculous thought, and my mind goes way off the deep end....  Maybe if I poop my pants the self righteous boob to my right won’t be able to stand the stench.  I did have Chipotle for dinner.....

blahblahblahblahblah shivneckdiapershivneckdiaperchipotleshiv my mind is racing with possibilities and scenarios, and I’m getting impatient and nervous. Nervous that I might really consider one of these.  I finally get up, pay the weary bartender, and walk towards the door.  I can still hear them over the rocking cover band onstage. If only I had remembered my invisible cloak, I would have been able to enjoy the band.  As I left, I realized that I had foreseen all of this.  Someone was going to ruin my nice evening of enjoying a live band in peace.  I saw the whole thing coming.

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