Random Rants After Consuming Some Watered-Down Dr. Pepper
I ran into someone recently who I hadn't seen in years. Things went normally. At first.
"Hey! How have you been? It's been forever!"
Then she nods and rubs her nose. And this is the exact kind of notion that sets off my anxiety.
Holy shit, that's a sign. She is signaling to me that I have something on my nose. Do I wipe it now? Or do I endure this entire conversation before locating the bathroom? Shit, where is the bathroom? How many people will see me and my dirty nose between here and the ladies' room? What if something is IN my nose? Oh my god I gotta get outta here. What'd she just say?
"Err sorry, I just zoned out."
This is exactly what I said after realizing I was staring off into space, thinking about the focal point of my face, while she was talking to a person who probably looked like they had just gone blind.
I try continuing the conversation, but since I don't want her looking at my nose, I keep breaking eye contact and looking down at my feet. After realizing that the mystery object may be on the bridge of my nose, I try looking side to side in a rapid manner, pretending like I'm shaking my head in laughter, in hopes that my incessant shaking will be so fast that my nose will look like a giant blur to her, rendering her physically unable to stare at the thing on my nose. Then I start hoping that maybe it'll shake it off, but then I grow paranoid that it'll shake it off and launch it toward her, so I abruptly stop shaking my head, while accidentally abruptly ending my laugh, as well.
Once the conversation ended, I ran to my bathroom and checked my nose.
...I must have shaken it off.
Why does every class have That One Guy? You know, I'm sure, because he's inevitable. That One Guy Who Won't Shut the Fuck Up.
My professor is in the middle of introducing herself to the class, and Treadmill Tongue yells out, "ONCE -" Then he pauses. The guy pauses for dramatic effect. As if anyone there needs a second to realize that someone just started shouting in the middle of class.
"...I had a Bible teacher..."
GET IT OUT, UDDER-MOUTH!
"...named Mr. Bible."
Wow. How fucking fascinating. I was dying to know what the guy in the third row's Bible teacher's name was. How did he know? I wanted to start slow-clapping, but then I'd be just as much of an attention whore as he was being. So I sat there and then turned back to my teacher.
"Interesting..." she awkwardly laughed.
I'll let you in on a little secret: if you ever say something to someone, and that someone responds with, "Interesting," then what they really mean is, "That's not interesting. At all." Don't believe me? Test it. Next time someone replies with, "Interesting," listen closely for the next thing they say. It'll probably be, "Well I gotta go now."
Unfortunately, none of us could follow up with that one. We all had to sit there and endure more random thoughts from Back-Row-Blibble-Blabbles.
I picked up my wallet. "Wow!" I thought, "The change pouch feels so full! I forgot I had so much change!"
Then I opened it up only to find an abundance of Skittles and candy corn.
I do not remember doing this.
I'm in a Fiction writing class this semester. Last year, I took Creative Nonfiction, which meant I got to submit exactly the kind of stuff I write about on this blog. But Fiction? Not going so well.
"Alright, class, we are going to do a free-write. I have two rules for this free-write. Rule number one: do not stop writing until I tell you to. Rule number two: do not write anything that is true."
So I began. I began doing something that I have not done in possibly fourteen years. I tried not to think about it, for we weren't allowed to stop. I just went and went and went and...
His beard needed combing and his nose needed blowing. He had neither a brush nor a tissue, and so he simply stood, examining his reflection in the store window, studying the causes that led to these haggard physical effects.
ALRIGHT STOP. His nose needed blowing? Who talks like that?
"My nose really needs a good blowing right now!"
And why would he carry his brush with him if he's going to the store? Do people even do that? Do men even comb their beards? NO, NATASHA, THEY DON'T.
"Haggard physical effects?" A runny nose is haggard? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU. And there were "causes" that led to his "physical effects?" So there were "causes" that led him to having a beard and a cold? Hmmm, like the fact that he is a man led him to grow the beard, and the fact that germs exist in this world led him to be sick? So why would he be staring at himself "studying" the fact that he is a man with a cold? Hasn't he been through this before? Does he get this depressed every time he realizes he is a man affected by germs? Like every other person on this planet?
Socks need a thicker coating around the toes. Why has no one done this? My toes get so cold that I can't even walk correctly. I'm like a modern-day Quasimodo. Someone the other day even drove by and yelled at me, "ISN'T THERE A BELL SOMEWHERE THAT NEEDS RINGING?"
...okay, so no one actually said that.
But they could have, all because no one makes socks with thicker coating around the little piggies, who won't be going to the market or eating roast beef or anything of the sort because they are too damn cold.