It was one of the oddest of lunch hours.

As I left the building I rode the elevator with an elderly security guard whose badge said “Serving since 1966”.

“Have you really been here since 1966?” I asked with surprise. He smiled at me and said, “They got it wrong—actually I've been here since 1960.”

“Oh wow,?” I said back, “that’s very impressive.”

“Well my father worked here after he got outta the Navy so I tried it out, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“Really?! Well, that is an accomplishment,” I added.

“First I started out as a guard at NAME OF STUDIO’S FOUNDER’s house.”

“Oh, really? I’ve never heard of that.” I said, not realizing he meant his literal HOUSE. I thought it was some sort of movie theater.

“You never heard of NAME OF STUDIO FOUNDER??!!” he said, startled. He was a close talker and kept getting closer as we got out of the elevator to the point where I nearly walked across the room at a diagonal 90 degree angle.

Ok, so I sound like an idiot. Oh well.

Moments later I was in line at a store waiting for my items to go through checkout while admiring one of the women from Desperate Housewives who was standing one lane over. I didn’t realize that a very Euro-looking man had gotten in line right behind me until he said,

“Can I ask you a question for a friend of mine?”

“Sure,” I said— not expecting his question to be:

“If a guy made you a drink with star-shaped ice cubes in it, would you be impressed?”

I tried not to fall over. Instead I answered with as straight a face as I could manage, “Um…sure.”

But I was really thinking : Yeah dude, I’d think he was a frigging magician.


“Tha’ means no,” he said in a thick Italian accent, looking genuinely disappointed.

Ok, if I were two years old I MIGHT be impressed that my drink had star shaped ice cubes, but other than that, I don’t know if in my list of qualities I would put: “Man who can make me a drink with uniquely shaped ice cubes.”

As if reading my mind he then asked:

“Well, lemme ask you this: What do you look for most in a man?”
Oh bother, I thought to myself. He actually wants to have a conversation.

“Um…intelligence?” I said back, darting my eyes around the room, hoping he’d notice I wasn’t extremely interested in the talking at the moment. In my head I was sending silent messages to him:

For the love of god, quit already! Let me admire the lady from the show and get my stuff in peace!

“Ok,” he then said with a face that looked very disappointed “So what if the guy isn’t like, that intelligent, is that it then? There’s no way? You just say no way?”

I gather you have insecurities about your intelligence?

“Uh…..well….umm…..sense of humor is always good.” I said, not understanding why I felt I needed to make him feel better about my opinions.

“So what if he’s not so funny? That’s the end—not happening?”

Hmmm...maybe you just need to think about your self-esteem in general? I just smiled and said nothing back. So he added:

“Most women say they like excitement. You know what I mean by excitement?” He asked leaning toward me with his eyebrows raised.

Gosh I hope not. I thought as I watched the Desperate Housewives woman walk off with a guy who had a stuffed marmot balancing on his shoulder. I then began bagging my items looking as disinterested as I could manage without feeling mean. But he followed with a barrage of questions I tried to deflect as politely as possible.

Meanwhile I was packing as many of the glass items I had purchased into the bags as I could because at this particular store you can’t take the carts all the way to the parking structure. And if you want to bring your car to your items, you have to check them in at the far end of the building. I didn’t have time for that.

So after loading as much crap as I could into double-bagged plastic sacks I stumbled out the door and across the street—sweating and panting and squeaking with the weight. I felt certain I was going to drop all three bags and then I would have two sacks full of useless broken glass.

As if a miracle happened, I saw that someone, some deviant angel of mercy—had managed to get their store cart out to the parking structure and then they left it unattended! I raced myself to the cart and threw my items up into it with relief and joy. Two bags made it. One bag---not so much. It slammed into the side of my vehicle of mercy and I believe shattered the vases inside.

So much for my miracle.

After that—at a sandwich shop—I encountered the most obsessive compulsive vegetarian I have ever seen. I might have thought she was a strict Vegan but she asked for cheese on her sandwich.

“Stop! Change your gloves!” she commanded the guy after he worked on my turkey sandwich. I used to be a vegetarian so I understand the repulsion—but not to this degree. She literally splayed herself across the glass of the counter and jumped down the sandwich maker’s throat every two seconds:

“Has that knife touched any meat?! Have you used that paper for anything near meat? Can that guy change his gloves too?”

Wow, woman, I thought. This is DEFINITELY a full-blown “character” day.