An Inconvenience Store Truth

I woke up at 3:05am. I had had a wild dream again, and was a little unsure of where I was. 

In my dream I had ran into DT in a convenience store. He walked over to me, stood to my left, and waited for me to recognize him. He wore a navy blue suit with a red tie which hung about a foot lower than his waist. He also seemed physically 3x my size. Our conversation follows:

DT: Lester you're not poor are you. I mean you're not poor poor are you?

*Awkward silence

Me: I'm poor.

*We both stared at a case with premade sandwiches. My stomach winced at the sight of the egg salad on white bread. The edges of the bread were hardening and curling.

DT: Are those watches real?

*I was wearing two watches on my left wrist; a Timex and a Guess...

Me: Oh, they're just everyday watches, Sir.

DT: Oh. Well, tomorrow I will bring in a watch with me for you.

Me: Thank you, Sir.

DT: I want you to start getting used to the finer things...

Me: Thank you.

*We stood in awkward silence as I thought, "Geez, I wish I had this on video, nobody's going to believe this." 

The sound of the furnace coming on jolted me to reality. 

Vote Wisely!

I was thinking earlier that before people vote they should ride the public transportation in their town. I did today. The numbers of wheelchair bound, sick, mentally ill, impoverished, drunk, drug addicted, educationally failed... who are probably trying ten times as hard as any of us who judge are sobering. 

One young 20-something woman who greeted me had to be well over 400lbs. She was so warm and pleasant. How could she be? I tried to help her off of the bus. She was so large and awkward that she had to descend the three bus steps backwards. After she was safely on the ground she smiled broadly and waved goodbye to me. I was amazed how at peace she seemed. I felt embarrassed.

A middle-aged woman and her husband seemed to take forever to board. They had 8 or 10 grocery bags and several boxes of frozen meats. A bag fell over to reveal a couple slabs of ribs. The couple started a conversation with two different men near them. One had just finished a program job for those with cognitive issues, and the other, an elderly man. The woman was in a wheelchair. She explained that she and her husband had so much food in tow because she sold dinners from her house. Nah, that's not legal, but that's not the point. The point is that she found herself unable to walk and, has turned her skills into a business to feed her family. Her said that she has taught her husband and sons how to cook and package the meals for times when she isn't well enough. She also shared that she just became her church's Secretary which gives her great joy. The woman offered the two guys shopping and cooking tips. They all enjoyed each other's company.

A drunk man boarded and barely made it to his seat. He seemed in great pain as he loudly moaned after sitting. Another man who was his friend got on several blocks down. The intoxicated little man could have been 30 or 60, who knows? He seemingly fell asleep on his friend's shoulder. A river of beer made its way down the bus as people feared aloud that it was pee. It was actually the man's 40oz beer being wasted. He didn't wake.

There was more to see, but you get the point? The people without a voice in the economy are struggling, most are fighting harder than any of us. Instead of judging them for not being us and dismissing their struggles as bad luck or poor choices, how about we start voting for people and policies that will uplift the dismissed?

What I Won't Do For A Bargain...

Each morning I take a probiotic. It's good for what ails me. I have been out for roughly a couple weeks and, I have noticed the difference. I am frugal and the supplement is expensive so, I usually look for two for one sales. 

My local drugstore (starts with a W) advertised online that they had such a bargain. Late this afternoon I went down my hill and a couple blocks over to the drugstore. I searched their entire supplement aisle and did not see the sale probiotics. Rather than use my phone to go to their website, I first went to the front of the store to find a sale circular. No circular insight. I then went to the nearest open register. The conversation follows:

Me: Hi, I was looking for this week's sale circular but, I don't see it in its usual place. 

Young Cashier Lady: 

*She looked to be roughly 18 years old. She tilted her head and looked at me as if I were speaking a laugh foreign to her.

Sales circular? Sales circular?

Me: You know, the booklet of sales for this week?

YCL: Sales book? 

Me: 

*Expecting any second for her to say something like, "I was just joking."

You usually have a paper which highlights the items on sale for the week?

YCL: Idontknowwhatchutalkinabout, you better find somebody else.

Me:

 

* I turn away from her fearing the same fate as Lot's wife. I take a few steps forward and hear YCL whispering to someone "He wanted a sales circular. Do you know what that is?

I look up and there's another cashier/asst. mgr. She doesn't ask if she can help me but, rather leans in toward me as if we were already speaking.

I was looking for this week's sale paper of what's on sale.

*She was actually creeping me out. I could not tell you what she looked like other than; she had glasses, a light blue shirt and, a buffering symbol on her forehead, or at least it seemed so.

Asst. Mgr.: 

Oh, we don't have anything like that. If you want to know what's on sale you, have to look on line.

*She points to literature and starts to recite the web address.

Me: I didn't know that. Thank you.

*I return to the supplement section, use the store app and, this time find the probiotics that should be on sale. However, there is no posted sale sign. I take a box and walk to the front counter. I look around and get the attention of the middle-aged woman who I believe might be the manager. I explain my dilemma.

Mgr.: Sir, if you meet me at the first register, I can help you.

*She finds that indeed the item is on sale. Then in a super pleasant condescending voice...

Sir, in the future when you are in the store, if you want to know what's on sale, just look for the yellow sale tag beneath the product.

Me: There was no tag underneath this product.

Mgr.: Oh well, I guess we missed one. Thank you for shopping...

Me: Thanks.

*Please stay in school, kids!

Bad Dog Owner

On my usual walk to the grocery store a couple miles from home, there's a middle-aged white woman with a ferocious Rottweiler. Her ranch home is on a corner and is surrounded by a low chain link fence. It is a very quite residential area. The dog always races out of nowhere and, strains at the top of the fence to get me. Usually, I am in my own little world and I'm startled and a bit terrified. It's a large lot and, the woman always stands there and laughs at my terror.

On one occasion, I yelled at her to call her dog. She told me that he was inside the fence so... "Still you can't let your dog menace people," I offered. I guess I could have done a "Karen" but, each time I forget about the microaggression until it happened again.

Today, as I walked past the dog darted towards me and, almost literally scared the crap out of me. Instead of laughing, the woman raced over and grabbed the dog my the collar. She looked over at me and apologized four times. I was speechless. Why the change in behavior? Maybe, she was reported by someone else? Maybe, the tree surgeons across the street watching influenced her. Maybe, she's been watching the news. Who knows?

Creepo

I don't know why I forgot this story. About a week ago I was going for a morning six mile walk, which I take at least 3x each week. I was walking along the shoulder of a road across from a cemetery. In a couple mile stretch there are only about a half dozen homes. 

A random white man who was probably late 40's or early 50's, with grey hair in a pony tail slowed to a stop on the opposite side of the road. He was driving a rented cargo van.

Random Guy: Hey, I suspect if you are walking along here you have a ways to go. Want a ride?

Me: No thanks. I'm just out for a walk.

RG: Oh, you're just out for a walk?
His tone suggested that he didn't quite believe me. He just stared.

Me: Uncomfortable at this point and, hoping he would take the queue...
Okay, you have a great day.

RG: Still awkwardly staring
Is that your woman back there?

Me: No.
Almost afraid to turn around, I quickly looked behind me and saw a young white woman jogging probably a tenth of a mile in the distance.

RG: Looking as creepy as this sounds
Maybe, I'll go see if she needs a ride.

Me: Not knowing what else to say
Have a nice day.

The random guy made a u-turn. I walked faster and, looked back when I had created a distance the equivalent of couple city blocks. The van sped past me as the guy waved with his arm out of the window. He turned at the crossroad. I looked back and the woman was not there.

In a different time, I would have been more concerned, I would have watched. I would have thought it my chivalric duty or something to keep that stranger safe. It didn't really cross my mind. Perhaps, I am reading too many news stories but, my own safety seemed far more important at the time. 

Wacko

I had told myself that I would do my best to steer clear of shorts that easily fall under the heading "Mean People Suck." However, writing is cathartic...

When I left this morning the temperature was in the low sixties with overcast skys, perfect weather for a walk I thought. Roughly two miles (and half my journey) from the house there is an entrance to the expressway here. I was headed north. The last house before the sharp right turn towards the onramps is a modest blue house with white trim. In the ten or more years here, I have never seen anyone about that property. I assumed the owner was perhaps an elderly shut-in.

About three houses before the blue house I heard a dog barking wildly. I wasn't sure where it was coming from. As I approached the blue house I saw a petite white woman who was probably in her mid-50's. She sat on the front steps and watched a tiny shaggy white dog explore. There was another dog there as well. A ferocious mocha coloured Pit Bull. The Pit Bull barked wildly at me. I looked at the owner assuming my glare would prompt her to call the animal as he moved towards me. Instead, she looked at me, and then the dog and smiled in almost anticipation. She looked as if she might be watching her favorite sitcom.

The dog raced across the lawn as I visually searched for a leash. By the time I reached the sidewalk at the end of the driveway which was on the left side of the house, the dog, still barking had made its way to me. I notice that he was bound only by a very old nautical hemp rope. The rope strained from the Pit Bull's neck up the driveway, and behind the house. The distance had to be a good 25-30 feet.

The dog, reared on its hind legs. It was most definitely going to attack. I had no were to go. The sidewalk ended at the left side of the drive. This area is dangerous even without the threat of dogs in that there is no stop for the expressway entrance, just a sharp curve immediately after the blue house. Without thinking I jumped back from the animal and into traffic.

I didn't even realize that I was in the road until I happened to look to my right and saw a sympathetic elderly woman in a small SUV. Her kind eyes seemed to say "Take all the time you need."

I looked over at the woman on the steps whose expression can only be described as extreme delight. The old woman in the vehicle waved at me to cross the entrance lanes. I did. I took a deep breath, said a little prayer, and was on my way. Somebody up there likes me.

When I arrived at my destination I called the city's Animal Control division and told the nice woman there what I just shared with you. She told me that the law only allows a six foot leash, and agreed that even in that one cannot allow their pet to menace. We also agreed that it was peculiar if not intentional that the rope was just long enough to reach the edge but, not allow the animal onto the sidewalk. Probably a very twisted interpretation of the leash law.

About fifteen minutes after my call, the woman from Animal Control telephoned me. She wanted to be certain of the address of the blue house on her map. She said that she would send someone out immediately to deal with the owner and pet. On my return this evening, I walked on the opposite side of the street, no woman or dogs were out.

All's well that ends well, I guess?

Poor Flo

Today, as with most Sunday's, I took my six mile walk. It was warm, although overcast. About halfway through my journey, I stopped and nosed around the thrift store, and purchased a box of tissues next door at the dollar tree. I continued down Valley Drive past the duck pond and the cemetery. It was all very pleasant and uneventful.

I made my way over to Salina Street, and to Aldi's for a bottle of water, and a box of Bran Flakes. It was about a quarter mile from the grocery store that the universe decided that once again there was weirdness to transpire, and that I was to witness it.

Her name was Florence Delaney McFadden, and she was no taller than 4'8". I suspect that 85 would be my guess for both her age and weight. Not to be unkind, but she may have had but four teeth in her head, which were horribly tarnished from a lifetime of cigarette smoking. She approached me in a terrified state. She grabbed my forearm as she spoke. "Can you please help me?" Sympathetically, I asked what was the matter? She told me that she was being followed. She pointed to a vacant building across the street. That building sits lonely in this residential area. Years ago it was a real estate agency.

Flo was breathless as she spoke. "I'm being followed. There's a man hiding over there behind that building. He wants to kill me." She yanked at my arm to accentuate that last statement. She pled with me to call the police to save her.

I guess that I should have been startled, activated superhero powers or something, instead I just took out my phone as I stared at the building. It never crossed my mind how I would react if Flo's would be assassin sprang to action. I suppose meditation has taken it's toll in that there's not a lot that gets me worked up anymore. I've become Problem-Solver-Man; "Whatdawegothere?"

I touched Flo's arm and dailed 911. I said "Hello," four or five times as did the 911 operator. Neither of us could hear the other for some reason. I ended the call, and told Flo what happened. She was frantic and started pacing. My phone rang, I didn't recognize the number so, I rejected the call.  While trying to calm Flo, I tried 911 again. The same thing happened again. "Oh please, we've got to do something," Flo demanded!

My phone rang again, it was that same number from minutes earlier. I answered this time. "Hello, this is 911, we got two calls from this number. Are you okay?" I quickly explained the failed calls and Flo's  plight. I was asked my name, Flo's, and a description of her. As I gave the information, I noticed Flo was wearing an old school lavender Irish cable knit turtle neck. She was wearing a rag wool zip-front cardigan of the same massive weight over the turtle neck. Uncharitable, I thought "Geez, I guess old people are always cold." Pleated denim slacks rounded out the ensemble.

A cruiser would be immediately dispatched, I was told.

I shared this with Flo. As she repeated my words, she became more calm.

A couple in their late 50's approached us. Flo immediately told them of the man following her and his murderous intent. The couple smiled awkwardly, and stared at me. It was obvious to me that they didn't believe Flo. I offered that I had contacted 911 and all. Flo reiterated her fears. The woman gave me a look as she tilted her head. She thought Flo might be nuts. Her husband confirmed this in a greater smile.

A couple minutes later an awful blue coloured vehicle pulled into the driveway next to where we stood. I am not sure of the make or model except that it was ugly. A man of roughly 60 years exited the vehicle. He was a good sixty pounds overweight, hadn't shaved or showered in a week. He wore a blue T-shirt that matched his vehicle. I imagine blue was the man's signature color. He told us that he was a friend of Flo's sister, and that Flo once owned the now vacant real estate building across the street. The couple said they remembered Flo.

The man had Flo's sister at the ready on a flip phone. Yes, a flip phone. The couple and I stared at the phone. I imagine we were all thinking the same thing.

The entire time the couple smiled as if they were extras in an SNL skit. Everybody was actually starting to creep me out. I took a half step to my right. We glanced at blue-man. He asked Flo if she wanted to go with him. Instead of looking at Flo, the couple looked to me. I whispered "I wouldn't go with him either. " At the same time, the couple nodded and smiled in agreement.

Flo was now a different person. She screamed and roared into the telephone at her sister. She said that this man, blue-man was trying to kill her... again. Blue-man looked at us with a weird smile, as if we now should understand the trouble with Flo. The couple did, I was a wee slow on the uptake.

Flo became calmer. Blue-man said that it was the second time today she had "gotten out." Uncomfortable, I asked the couple about their dog. It was a 14 year old Japanese something or other with the shakes. Blue-man asked if the dog was hyper, "Why does he shake like that." I was pretty through with blue-man, that poor beautiful dog, Flo, and the smiling couple, but I couldn't leave. I had given 911 my name, and all these characters were unsettling. I assumed that poor Flo has dementia. I felt said for her, in part because of the presence of blue-man in her life. He was creepy, and hadn't told us enough about their connection.

Fortunately, a police cruiser slowly approached. Flo freaked as he passed us. She began jumping in the air yelling, "Police, come back!" I told her that he was just turning his vehicle around to get to our side of the street. She seemed pleased and quieted.

The officer exited the vehicle and Flo started towards him. "Flo, how are you?" He knows her? I didn't hear her reply. I was mesmerized by the fact that the officer literally looked 17 years old, and "carved from cream cheese," to swipe a "Steel Magnolias" line.

I looked at the smiling couple, an sarcastically announced that I was going to go and start dinner. The woman told me "You are a very good person," and her husband agreed. I smiled.

I turned to walk away. Not stopping, I told the officer that I was the person who called. "Thanks man," he offered.

That was five hours ago, and my head still hurts.