Odd people of the world unite and converge on me!

14 04 2008

I went to what has become my favorite bar last Friday night. It was something of a special occasion, as I was drinking alone. Not entirely alone, there were a few random people I knew there, but mostly I was at the bar watching the karaoke action.

The highlight of the evening was when I was outside smoking. Cathy, who is 50, was way high. She has lupus and “other mental problems,” which allows her to buy medical marijuana. She moved here from Oklahoma in order to get the stuff, as it’s not legal back there. She normally doesn’t smoke to get high, just relive the pain. Friday night, though, she felt it necessary to “party hard.”

I know all that from a 45 second speech that she directed at me while borrowing my lighter after she bummed a smoke from me.

I believe that odd people are drawn to me for some reason. There were at least half a dozen people outside smoking, most of which Cathy knew. However, she felt it necessary to talk to me in order to acquire a cigarette.

Another example would be that little weird dude that kept bugging me for change at a Jack in the Box somewhere on the coast. It went beyond asking for change, the guy wanted to talk to me as well. He had some kind of mental problem, and was very polite, but his face was a bit deformed. Deformed enough that he was creepy to look at, with his buggy eyes and patchy facial hair.

Or, that short dude that asked me for change at a gas station in Barstow. After I gave him some change, he inquired if I knew where any of the strip clubs were. He also explained to me while I was pumping gas that he had gotten out of prison the day before and was “looking for some pussy.”

These are just the people I can remember. I’m sure other people I’ve told these stories to will help jog my memory.

So if you ever see me talking to some random weird person, it’s not my fault. They just feel compelled to tell me their life story, no matter how ridiculous it was.

Also, they tell me their life story no matter how much I don’t care.




7 responses

14 04 2008

It’s the hair. And the yellow shirt.

14 04 2008

I remember the jack in the box guy…..he was odd. Remember the guy in New Orleans that we kept seeing everywhere?

14 04 2008
Joe Drinker

You must just have a friendly face. That, or you’re slower than the other people around who were able to get away.

14 04 2008

Yeah, the guy in New Orleans looked just like the guy from Jack in the Box. Like I said, I knew there was a few I didn’t remember.

15 04 2008

I’m telling you, brother, it’s a goof troop thing. Rant if you want, but there is an argument here.

15 04 2008

Actually I’ll admit I’ve had very weird people approach me as well. I recall one guy who told me this interesting story about his encounters with an Indian tribe that lived in a village on top of Camelback Mountain and also interacted with little green men from outer space. For proof he produced an alien rock that gave a little if you squeezed it. The alien rock was the inside portion of a golf ball but I wasn’t going to attempt to disprove the crazy man for obvious reasons.

15 04 2008

Good thinking about not disproving his alien rock. Those Camelback Mountain Greys take offensive easy.

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