Monday, May 4, 2009

Weirdos Love Me

Weirdos love me. They really do. Always have. Starting in elementary school. Sure, I got my fair share of "Do you love me? Yes. No. Check one." notes but then I also got things like perfumed fake roses left in my desk at recess or the boy who would rub his bare feet on my legs underneath our table during group assignments.

Moving on through junior high and high school I encountered a long list of people like Manuel, who already had a mustache at 13, and constantly followed me around the halls licking his lips and giving me badges from Mexico that said things like "Besame!" or the guy with a mullet who gave me a bunch of jello one year for Christmas.

Don't even get me started on my college years---Mr.-I-Had-A-Dream-We-Should-Get-Engaged-By-This-Weekend, Mr. If-We-Get-Married-My-Grandma-Said-We-Could-Have-Her-Microwave, the Biology class stalker, the guy who held my toe because I wouldn't let him hold my hand, the guy who knelt down and kissed my hand every time we parted ways, the guy who looked like Eleanor Roosevelt...I could go on and on and on but I won't.

Suffice it to say I am a weird guy magnet. Unfortunately this hasn't changed even though I am entering my 30's. The weirdos have just gotten weirder.

For instance the other day at Wal-Mart I am loading flowers into the back of my MINI VAN with my TWO CHILDREN buckled inside jabbering to each other when some dude in his Jeep Cherokee pulls up behind me and tries to strike up a conversation...do I usually shop here? Red flowers must be my favorite. Would I like to come over and plant flowers with him for awhile?

Seriously?

Lest we forget I am loading flowers into a mini van filled with children and am wearing my wedding ring. For the love! Where do these people come from?

Like the dude that just quit the gas station who always wanted to buy my drinks or the over friendly lesbian book store worker who followed me around Borders for 30 minutes last week and kept giving me lame depressing cancer book suggestions. I can't escape they're everywhere!

I need to accept the fact that weirdos will always find me. Nay, they will always flock to me. I have a theory about why this occurs but this entry is getting too long so my theory will have to wait. Until then back off weirdos I need some space.

2 comments:

  1. At least you don't attract hobos like I do.

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  2. #! -- I'm still freaking out about your comment that you're "entering your 30's." ENTERING?!?!? Baby, I'm almost half-way through. Suck it up!

    #2 -- You ARE a weirdo magnet! Case in point -- Nate Powell. (P.S. If Nate reads this blog -- Love you, Nate.)

    #3 -- Did you go plant flowers with him?

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