Wednesday, May 23, 2007


Jever wonder what would happen the next time a stranger asks, "How ya doing?" and you actually told them the truth?

There is an old guy with crazy eyes, a dirty white t-shirt and constant stubble who lives in our town (under a bridge I presume) and who I always see at Walmart strolling along pushing an empty cart.

Maybe he lives in Walmart.

As often as I'm there, it's conceivable some people think I live there.

Stupid people.

This guy is unkempt, to say the least (which I try never to do) and his hair always looks like he just got off a roller coaster. Despite his appearance, he is forever inexplicably happy. Like he just won the Publisher's Clearinghouse or spent the entire day at an amusement park.

Maybe he did just get off a roller coaster.

Every single day.

Even though we have no roller coasters in this little town.

Why am I living in a town without roller coasters? How will I ever be truly happy if I can't ride a roller coaster before I go to Walmart eight times a day?

My life sucks.

So each and every time I see this guy... and I mean every blessed time even after all these years, he always smiles like a monkey and asks me, "How ya doing?"

Today I deeply wanted to tell him.

"Here's the scoop, crazy eye guy who is way too happy for no apparent reason. My husband...first name Mister, last name Man, is a 6'2" cripple who, although I love him awful, I may have to kill brutally in the near future. I am working my happy assets off doing many things for many people trying to make all the ends meet and still they are not meeting as they should. My house is a disaster and for the OCD Chick, that is like having a brain tumor.

I hate my hair, my face, my boobs, my nose and my thumbs and I don't know why. I also hate other people's hair, faces, boobs, noses and thumbs... but I totally know why.

My son turns 13 tomorrow, my daughter 23 in August and I still haven't grown up or been able to explain the meaning of life to them other than to say Mommy and Daddy were fighting and you were born on the anniversary of that fight.

I can't sleep, I can't eat without the sensation of having eaten Ivory Soap laced with tacks and to top it all off, I cut the dog's hair to save money and now the other dog won't play with him."

Does it make me a bad girl because I want to make a nice, albeit insane, old man run crying from a store with Always Low Prices just to make myself feel better for a minute?

I think it does. But that's why you love me, isn't it?

Things would have worked out perfectly had I been Mrs. Journey. Here's the best Journey song ever, ever, ever. You're welcome.

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TSG said...

Tell the old Geezer how you're doing. You'll feel better (at first) and it won't phase him at all.

If two women are talking and one relates a problem the other will always listen patiently and then offer words of encouragement and comfort.

If I say to Cooter "man I had a bad day", Topper dropped his chain saw out of the tree and it hit me cutting off my right arm,then I fell back and got run over by the skidder. Guarantee he will instantly blow it off and say yeah, that's nothing you ought to hear what happened to me! It's the way we are.

Go ahead tell him. But don't be surprised to hear him say "that's nothing wait to you hear what happened to me".

Nancy said...

Grab a 6 pack and head into the next town that has a roller coaster. Pay the attendant not to stop the ride until you pass out.

Or just Take.A.Deep.Breath.
You will be fine =)

LarryLilly said...

Yeah, Einstein was right, Life is relative.

I lost my daughter and my first wife and yet i am happy because I still have two sons and a better new wife.

Its relative.

I got stuck in many nine line binds, only to find out that at least I had eyes to see them, ears to hear them and legs to walk away from them.

Life is relative.

So I hear ya, sometimes you want to smash mouth someone when you feel like your in the Walmart parking lot of life, with the only cart left, its raining, you cant find your truck and the cart just threw a rear wheel.

But the greeter is smiling, his old lady is dying from cancer, and he is trying to get her some pain meds to make her ride into Gods waiting room easier.

life is relative.

You will get over it.
Complain when your dead, smile as long as you are alive.

Jami said...

TSG is right - guys always try to one-up each other, so you'll be fine telling Smilin' Guy (Does he have teeth, BTW? It matters.) how you REALLY are. If he hears you at all, he will have forgotten it within moments but you'll feel better for having said it. And if your story really does penetrate and happen to stick to his brain and he then runs screaming from the store, you'll feel even better because it will be funny. Win-win in my book.

And just FWIW, I happen to love my thumbs and my boobs and my face. And I kinda like your hair and your nose.

Jami said...

...if you tie a pork chop around the dog's neck, he'll be Mister Canine Popularity again in no time.

As for the six-pack, get longnecks - they're much easier to drink on a roller coaster. That's the voice of experience speaking.

Sher said...

A well rounded Stalker would have said, "Hey Sher, let me send you a million dollars, a pretty pair of red shoes and of course, a trained Monkey".

Tick Tock.

That is excellent advice. I think I might.

I'm so deeply humbled by your loss and your attitude. There are no words.

I'm convinced you are my Mother, Sister or Long Lost Cousin 'cause as always, you're walking around in my head.

Jami said...

I'll go with Sister or Cousin. Although I've got a birthday coming up soon, I am most definitely NOT old enough to be your mother - and you are grounded for a week for saying so!

Jami said...

...and it's dark and smells funny in here, too. When was the last time you cleaned in here?

Sher said...


OMG...I just realized my faux pas or as they say in NC, my fox pass.

What an ultra maroon.

TSG said...

I Had today off so I thought I might redeem myself by stalking you. All the wrong answers again. I'm not worthy. What else can I say. Maybe that's why I've never been married.

I will post the outcome of my date with PJ (BTW great choice, thanks)in the big city, on my blog on Sunday. Your valued advice continues to flow from your gilded pen like clear, cold AR. spring water.

Sher said...

So now you can only stalk when you're off work? This is not looking good for you, TSG. That's no way to move up the husband list.

Can't wait to hear about Poor Jane. Remember: No McDonald's, no audible belching and in the name of all that is right and holy, DO NOT wear a sweater vest or a polo shirt or Jami, Nancy and myself will throw verbal rocks at you.

Alpha Dude 1.5 said...

Life is hard. So what?
Maybe we should form a support group. My life turned to crap, then I met Patch and now life is gooder than I ever thunk it coulda been.

My wife Patch told me that the only problem with life is that it is so daily!

Also, my son asked if he could come live with me, and for the first time, no one tried to stop him. He has been living here for a week now.

Life is good, actually. All life comes from God, God is good, so life is good. It's all in how you look at it. Okay, I'll stop preaching now.

May I suggest that the next time you see the old guy at WalMart - go ahead and talk to him. You just may learn something and you would at least have something more to write about.

Blessings to you Sher. If I had the million, the shoes and the monkey, I'd give it to you.