Wednesday, April 28, 2010


I’m a magnet for the unusual.  It’s true unfortunately.

It started when I moved from my small town to a bigger city at the ripe old age of 20.  The first week I was there I had gone out to a nightclub and as I was walking the street back up to my car, a homeless derelict came running out from the side of a building yelling “whore, whore, you filthy whore” and brandishing a butcher knife.  I had to kick off my heals and leave them behind and run my butt off to get to my car.  I made it in time, but I regretted leaving my shoes. (What? they were brand new!)  I had this weird feeling that he probably picked them up and hacked them to pieces.  I suppose it was better my shoes than me.

You think that would have been enough to kick some sense into my rather large noggin and send me packing.  Well it didn’t, and the next 10 years of living in the City provided me with enough stories that I could have written a novel, seriously!

Things happened to me like a serial arsonist set my apartment building on fire while I was in the middle of making Christmas cookies. I was on the top floor at the time and I calmly walked around my apartment unplugging my appliances (no, I don’t know why I did that) and collecting my jewelry and a clean pair of underwear while smoke was pouring into my apartment.  Ironically, our local stoned-out-of-his-mind postman saved the day! Then there was the time I got a hankering for a big salad after watching Elaine ordering a big salad on a Seinfeld episode.  As I was coming back with my salad, I noticed this scary looking dude hanging outside the entrance of my parking lot.  By the time I got out of my car, he was right there in my face.  Luckily for me, a young couple walked out of my apartment building at the same time.  He looked me in the face and told me I was a very lucky girl.  I wasn’t sure what he was going to do until I reported him to the police and they said his description fit that of a sex offender they were looking for.  Makes me shiver just thinking about it.

However not everything that happened was frightening.  Take the time a family from the states moved into the apartment building below me.  Their son was anorexic and he was attending a well known facility for treatment.  I ended up seeing them the following week on 20/20 as they were being interviewed because it was rather unusual for a boy to suffer from anorexia.  But what gets weirder is that later in the week, I saw the father on America’s Most Wanted.  Apparently, he robbed several gas stations on his way up to our City.  The next day, the police were knocking on my door looking for them.  Of course other things happened to me like the time I had new neighbours move in below me and I could hear all this arguing for hours.  Finally, being sick of it, I went down and knocked on their door and as the young guy opened the door, I leaned on it and fell inside.  To my astonishment, I saw approximately 30 young arab men in turbans sitting in an unfurnished bachelor apartment on bedrolls.  They were freaking out over something that was on TV and it was apparent that they were horrified that I saw them all.  The next day they vacated the apartment without notice.  Can you say future “Jihad”!  Lordy!

I wished I could say it stopped there, but no, it didn’t.  I can once remember taking the bus two hours to get to home.  A mother and her mentally challenged teenage son came on board and she sat him down next to me.  I spent the next two hours having the same question posed to me every 5 minutes: “Can I squeeze your booby?”  Um, NO!  That was a long ride home my friends, a very long ride!

Things didn’t get any better when I moved to my latest town of choice.  Without getting into too many specifics, I can tell you that I have had in my office an escapee from the 4th floor mental health ward of our local hospital, a homicidal maniac asking how he could off his wife without being caught (uh huh, sure buddy), a recently paroled bank robber wondering how he could get his ID back from the Government so he could claim some money that he had “stashed” away, a seriously drunk woman looking for a dentist who fell into the wall and passed out across my feet, and then proceeded to come back the next day and repeat the whole process again. 

Yup, there are days that I wonder what I have done in a previous life to warrant such bizarreness!  I am the human equivalent of velcro, everything that you don’t want to stick to it, sticks to it!

These days, I try and not even make eye contact, but it doesn’t help.  I have become the Pied Piper of weirdos.  I suppose that I shouldn’t complain too much as it has made my life a little more interesting.  Maybe I am a weirdo myself.  Come to think of it, my better half’s term of endearment for me is “little weirdo”.  A coincidence, perhaps not. Hmmmm, that gets me to thinking, I suppose if I can’t beat them, I might as well join them. 

Until Next Time.
Smooches Pooches

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