Thank You, but No, I Prefer Not to Smoke Your Crack Cocaine.

For many a year, I had the email address “the freak magnet @ something dot something” I retired it because it was inundated with SPAM, not because the name was no longer applicable.

As was displayed last night.

I met up with a dear friend at a bar for some quality time.  She and I have never really spent time outside of work alone and we decided it was high time to change that.  She is such a kind soul and it is impossible to not feel as though you are the most important person in the room when you are with her.  You know these kinds of people; no matter how many individuals are there with you, every single one of them feels that they themselves are the closest person to her.  I admire (and am slightly jealous of) her for this, but it is just who she is.

I was lucky to have her all to myself for the evening.  Such a full and interesting life she’s had so far and the adventures she’s planning.  A truly beautiful woman.  (She, at the age of 14 was clubbed over the head at the peaceful protest @ Kent State!  I KNOW, I wasn’t kidding! She’s got life stories to be in awe of!).

She and I are still excited that we were able to meet up.  The bartenders had just set our drinks down and all of the sudden, I have about 200 lbs of smelly man leaning on me. He was about 65ish, wearing a blue sweat suit, and wreaked of tobacco. His elbow was digging into my upper inner arm and his forearm was pressing across my chest, hand extending toward my friend. He asked if my friend was my sister.  We smiled and said, “of course” and tried to go back to our private conversation.

He was having none of that.

It seems that I was direct, yet polite, in again telling him that I was going to turn my back to him so I could have a private conversation with my friend.  I then proceeded to tell my friend about the inappropriate touching that happened on my Delta flight (http://but-i-dont-think-so.blogspot.com/2010/10/lt-wallaby-and-ipod-of-death.html).  To which he stated “You should NEVER touch someone without their consent!” …as he was touching me, emphasizing each word with a painful prod in the arm.  My friend didn’t miss a beat and stated “It’s a lesson to keep with you always…always” – he didn’t pick up on it.  He was still touching me.

I flatly, yet politely told the man to move off of me. He was still in my personal space.  The bartenders were still hovering and keeping an eye on the situation and at that point told the man to move further away from me. He finally obliged, but was still quite close, but at least I wasn’t supporting the man’s weight any longer.

He then started talking about how he loves crack cocaine. “I am not quite certain why you would think that I have any interest in speaking to you about anything, much less drugs.  There is nothing I would like to discuss about them and would like for you to stop as well.” He didn’t.

The interaction went on like that for at least 20 minutes. He was harmless and there was no need to be rude to him.  He was harmless in the state he was in and I was concerned that if I were to be nasty, his demeanor would change and that wouldn’t have been nice for anyone.  And, again, there really was no threat, just annoyance that he was taking away from the quality time with my friend.

Thankfully, he decided that he needed a cigarette, so he was then escorted out of the establishment.

I was very impressed with the professionalism and kindness shown by the bartenders (Nate & Chris K?) at Trios.  While they couldn't get me the baked brie, I knew that they had my back in a much more important way in the event that the man did get any more forceful.

In the end, my friend and I were able to spend a delightful evening listening to some wonderful music and even more delightful conversation…and a fun story to tell.

Lt. Wallaby and the iPod of Death

Here I sit almost 24 hours after I returned home on a flight between Detroit and South Bend, on my way home from a long week in NY.

I am still amazed at the treatment from the flight attendant, as were other passengers that witnessed the encounter that I am about to describe.  Let me state that I am still a devoted Delta Airlines passenger, but their response to the following encounter may impact that relationship.

Let me establish a couple of things first:

1) I travel a lot.  And when I travel, I try to always fly Delta.

2) I travel the same route a lot. SBN>DTW (or CVG)>LGA.

3) Having traveled this route for 5+ years, there are certain aspects that you pick up on:

a) there is a double ding that alerts the flight attendant that passengers can power up their electronics

b) this double ding typically occurs 15 minutes after wheels up

Another typical behavior for me is that I doze off during pre-flight and take off.  This was a typical trip.  I was out before the door shut.

I looked at my watch when I woke up; about 15 minutes from wheels up. another typical occurrence is that the double ding is often what wakes me up. Feeling that we had leveled off, I assumed this was the situation.  I powered up my iPod Touch.  Next thing I know, I have a hand crushing down on both my hands around the iPod and being shaken aggressively with 3-5 forceful jerks.  My reflex was to strike out at my seatmate, but my hands were bound.  I look up and it's the flight attendant!!  His  resemblance to Captain Kangaroo ended there.  He was Captain Kangaroo’s evil lesser known twin: Lt. Wallaby.  Lt. Wallaby then speaks to me in a tone that was just as unnecessary as the physical assault that just occurred. 

I was made to look and feel like a criminal for a simple oversight; as though I was trying to take a plane down by powering up my iPod.  He came at me with the attitude that he wanted a fight.  This infuriated me even more. If I were to have reacted in kind, I would have been cuffed and escorted off the plane by South Bend's finest. All I mustered up the courage to say back was "Touch me again" in a threatening tone.  He then proceeded to berate me on how conceited I was and that there were 50-something other people on the plane and how dare I feel so entitled to be above them. 

The man was out of line and, as I mention, came at me with an incredible attitude.  I had no interaction with the man before this instance and gave him no reason to believe that the powering up of my iPod was an act of defiance.  He gripped my hand and shook my arm with enough force that my hand is still sore today. I know it's not injured, but WOW, my opinion of this man as a representative of Delta sure is.

And oh yeah, the "double ding" happened as he was walking away from me.  I had just mentioned to my boss what a perfect travel experience we had been having before we got on that flight. Boy did that change quickly!

Always Something There to Remind Me

Not only a good 80’s song, but also relevant to my shopping experience yesterday.

There are some things that you just associate with people or places.  I was at the grocery store and decided to go down the snack aisle.  I needed snacks.  Every time I see the Nilla Wafers, I think of my Grandpa.  Yesterday, I had to give in and buy a box.  Yum.  Another thing that reminds me of Grandpa is angelfood cake.  He had a heart problems and I remember visiting him in the hospital.  They always gave him angelfood cake and if we were visiting, he shared it with us.  Sometimes he’d even save it just for us; he was a wonderful Grandpa.

I recently wrote about the Grandpa chair that I am currently sitting in while typing this and remembering him sitting in the chair, my Dad (his son-in-law) pretending to sit on his lap.  I can hear his donkey-esque laugh and the punctuated way that he & Grandma said my Mom’s name.  I can’t hear his voice any longer, just the laugh and they way he said her name.  Makes me a little sad, but it has been almost 20 years since he went to Heaven; I think he’d forgive me that, he was, after all, a wonderful Grandpa!

Get to Gettin’

I don’t like the word “get” and it’s past tense “got.”

It seems like a lazy verb to use. Think about it really. Today, I purchased a few tops for my friend. I went to relay this message and stated that I got her a few tops. There are so many better verbs to describe the transaction: purchased, bought, acquired, just to name a few.

I’ve got to try to stop using that word so much.  (get it…heh…I just used it 2X in my declaration to try and stop using it!  I am funny).

Now that statement revised:

I really would like to try and utilize better verbs to express myself.  See, doesn’t that sound a little more clear and educated?

Stuff

My Grandmother was a pack rat. Made sense…she grew up in The Great Depression.  Many people that remember having nothing ended up keeping everything. So, when Grandma passed away, we had a LOT of junk to sort through. So many years upon years of stuff.  None of which was worth much at all.

There were a couple of items that were sentimental and maybe one or 2 pieces that may be worth something that I now have in my home.  I have a beautiful steamer trunk (navy blue to boot!), a really comfortable chair that I call my Grandpa Chair and a lot of kitchen gadgetry.  Some of the gadgets I yet to use ~ I have had them for at least 8 years.

I have been watching Clean House and Hoarders lately.  Makes me feel really good about my house, but it also makes me want to thin out what I DO have.  I can understand how the people feel attached to the objects.  I don’t understand how they can feel connected to every object though.  I would be heartbroken to give up the Grandpa chair, but when it comes down to it, it’s just furniture.  It’s not like if I were to sell the chair, I am selling the memories of my Grandpa away too.

On those shows, I have noticed that they “make” these hoarders/excessively disorganized people get rid of everything.  At first, I thought that was excessive too, but then I realized that their collecting is a condition/disorder and they pretty much need to make the people have a clean break so that they can see that they can still live without having the crap surrounding them.

It’s also sad because it’s obvious that these people have such low self worth and self esteem. The clutter is an outwardly expression of how they see themselves.  It’s heartbreaking.

I am contemplating relocating back to Indianapolis. I will need to pack life away and I need to now start sifting through my possessions and wondering what is worthy of the move.  The last thing I want to have happen is for people to hang on to worthless stuff just because I once owned it. Although, I really don’t know who would have that sort of need ~ I am single and my dog doesn't really have any use for anything other than a good t-r-e-a-t or a nice good belly rub.  Plus, chances are, I will outlive her anyway.

Over the course of the next few months, I will have to sort through want versus need, sentimental value versus monetary value.  I am certain that I will find the sentimental value will win out more than I anticipate, but I’ll just put Miss Niecy Nash and have her “OH!” the decision for me.

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