Snark Scribe

Not all of us can meet people of quality

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Yoga-phobe

Yoga has been recommended to me on more than one occasion. I can only assume that people think the "peacefulness" will rub off on me, and negate some of my bitterness.When I've said that vibe is not really for me people have countered that there are less "woo-woo" types of yoga.However, there's a much better reason for me not to do yoga.

Germs.

I don't want to buy a yoga mat unless I'm sure I will continue to use it, and I refuse to borrow the gym's loaner mat, where countless people have spent countless hours oozing sweat from the countless pores on their bloated body. I read in the newspaper that yoga practitioners have higher incidences of athlete's foot and plantar warts.

Ewww.

People know to wear flip-flops in the shower and locker room but very few realize that yoga mats can be just as bacteria-laden, if not more.You may think I'm being paranoid, but you'd be paranoid too if you had an immune system like mine.

I've gotten an infection from washing dishes.

Sometimes those rubber dishwashing gloves can get a little wet inside. Moisture plus darkness equals bacteria. There are germs everywhere, and usually in such low quantities that normal people don't get sick. I am not normal.

Once, after washing dishes with a pair of rubber gloves that did not belong to me, my hands felt a little itchy. That night itchiness gave way to redness.

When I woke up the next morning, I had pus.

Granted, I must have had a cut or something on my finger before, so the little intrepid microbes could get in, but still, who the hell picks up infections from gloves? Gloves are a germaphobe's best friend. They're supposed to protect us. I feel so betrayed.

I may have to start washing dishes in disposable latex gloves and destroy the environment. Sorry Mother Nature. You started it.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

The Wolfman

I belong to a club that has meetings open to the public. While it's a good way to recruit, and most of the potential members that come to meetings turn out to be great people, occasionally we get some lonely people looking for friends, who obviously do not have friends for a reason.

One such person was the Wolfman.

He introduced himself by telling us he was part Native American, and was very proud to be part Native American, and being part Native American was very important to him.

There was a silent pause from everyone at the table as we considered the fact that he was very pale and very blonde. (I might have been able to tell you he was blue-eyed too if I had felt comfortable enough to make extended eye contact). Then we shrugged and said welcome.

Several minutes later he repeated his "proud to be Native American" speech, and continued to do so throughout the night in various contexts, with slightly different phrasing. We are an open group that doesn't discriminate based on gender/ cultural background/ religion/ hobby/ quirk. However, when one repeatedly says "I'm (blank) and I'm proud" it gets annoying.

Eventually he revealed he was about 5% Native American, but apparently this 5% was very important to him because he was "studying to be a shaman."

Yes, a shaman.

I spent much of the evening doing what I normally do when confronted with a possibly unstable individual I didn't want to push over the edge: I kept nodding in a non-committal manner but I kept my snarky comments to myself.

"And my totem animal is the wolf!"

Gee, how come all the dorks self-identify with wolf, lion, tiger or panther? Why doesn't anyone ever say, "Yeah, I feel like a field rabbit. Or a gerbil. I have a high metabolism and I like running through grass."

"I've got a lot of wolf-like qualities."

Is this your way of telling me you have hairy feet and poor hygiene?

"Yeah, if you're part of my clan I will defend you to the death."

Wow, you must be really desperate to join this club.

"I also howl at the moon."

Don't all nuts?

"And I like to nuzzle people."

If you try to nuzzle me, shaman or not, you're getting a totem pole up your ass.

Later in the evening he admitted, with a slight air of wistful confusion, "Yeah, some of the other guys [at my workplace] think I'm kinda weird."

Why? Did you try to nuzzle them?

Although eccentric, he did not seem like a bad person. He was very excited, and told us he would be coming back to meetings. We never saw him again. I do wonder if he ever became a shaman. I think he meant well. I wouldn't seek him out as a spiritual guide, but I would file him under harmless eccentric.

Welcome to my Pensieve

Hopefully I've got another 120 years before senility sets in, but just in case, it may be prudent to record everything, pat it on its head and send it off into cyberspace, like a parent anxious to get their ugly child to college and out of the house.

Besides, I've tormented my friends with my stories and now it's your turn.