It doesn’t matter what people are sayin’, as long as they’re talking about ya

I’m getting a bit of a Homolka vibe from someone. It’s very creepy, and I don’t understand the whole situation, but ya. Asking for my cell number after you talk to me for 5 seconds or so on MSN is strange. Asking me to webcam with you is weird. More so if you’re a girl (but in general too).

This person was almost a roommate two years ago. This is when I tell myself: thank your intuition for sidestepping that calamity.


monumental ii

Crazy is in fashion. There was a guy who came into the store tonight who was rambling on about the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer (Maria, Maria), as if it was some new-fangled concept. It began as him rambling on about how cashiers “don’t care anymore” about learning the intricacies of international calling cards [which they don’t typically use, and are never asked about, except by misinformed, economy-crazed lunatics buying female antiperspirants because a male kind burned them once]. When I accidentally mumbled “it’s called minimum wage” audibly enough for him to hear me, he went off on a tangent about GM workers in the States being demoted from pays of $29/hour to $11.50/hour and asked me if I thought that was fair. I said, “I don’t think that actually happened to anyone, but they’re still making more than I am, and they have superior health benefits.” (And whether his ranting is true or not, isn’t that more properly an example of the rich getting poorer??)

I do this all the time. I don’t know if it’s that I LIKE to egg on crazy people to see which direction their opinions will jerk to the very next second, or if I just fucking hate people who are so distanced from reality, but something about it was irritating, so I let it go on, despite the troubled expressions of onlookers.

“Yeah?? Well it’s going to cost you a lot more to buy things soon!” he rambled.
“It already does,” I said.
“You bet it does!” he twitched.

Good comeback!

“I was the one rallying for years to try and get the wages up!!!” he roared.
“Uh, yep…”
“They never did it!”

Yeah, you make a lot of sense. Tonnes. Thank god for you, Crazy Man. Thank god for your rallying, yours alone, no one else’s, thank god for your crazy blather, and thank god I didn’t have to listen to that crazy bullshit for more than a few minutes. And, hey, good luck with the Lady Speed Stick.

About Nikki

I've been writing since I was in kindergarten where I Crayola-markered an epic tale of a tiger and a balloon on a stack of lined papers folded into a booklet and stapled along the edge (carefully, and by my teacher). I love DIY, sewing, folksy music, animals and getting out to look at and listen to nature.
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