Foot Connoisseur

There is an individual in the outer periphery of my circle of acquaintances that has developed a reputation for putting his foot in his mouth, mostly when talking to my friend "Terry" (who is African American).

Incident 1: A conversation with Terry
Foot Connoisseur: "What was your name again? I always get you mixed up with [your Asian friend]."
Terry: "It's Terry."
FC: "Oh, I thought it was Tamesha or something. You know, like Tamesha Brown? I love names like that. Names like Tamesha Brown, or Shamika Jones, or . . ."
Terry: (confused look)

We thought this was funny because he meant well, but later mishaps proved how awkward he could be in his quest to be "helpful."

Incident 2: Terry was wearing golden chandelier earrings
FC: "Hey, I like your earrings. They're uh, really African."
Terry: (WTF?)

Incident 3: Terry was considering auditioning for a part in a show
Another Foot-Eater: "I don't think you're right for the part."
Terry: "Do you mean I'm not talented enough?"
AFE: "No, but I guess you could wear whiteface."
FC: "That's a great idea!" (with earnest enthusiasm)
Everyone else: "Are you crazy?"

The Foot Connoisseur developed such a reputation that when I showed up to a party wearing an Asian qipao someone said, "I bet you anything when [Foot Connoisseur] sees you he'll say something culturally insensitive." Then everyone burst into giggles. Sadly, he did not show up until the very end, and had no time to say anything memorable.

However, he made up for it later, during his clumsy attempt at informing my Jewish friend that she didn't look Jewish. He reached out, tweaked her nose, and said she "lacked the Ashkenazi schnoz."

I'd label him a harmless fool, if not for his unfortunate habit of stepping on other people's feet.

Prison Exercise

I thought that the Bollywood version of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" was hilarious:

Then I saw "1,500 plus CPDRC inmates of the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center, Cebu, Philippines at practice!" I almost spit out my spiral pasta.

I wonder who came up with the idea. Did the warden think, "Hey, if they're doing musicals they have less time to riot" ?

I'm also intensely curious about how they selected the inmate portraying the "girl." I'm imagining flyers in the prison cafeteria proclaiming, "Nominate your favorite prison bitch!"

Little Fuzzy Dog

As I was walking home a little Pomeranian twaddled up to me and sniffed at my feet.

I was a little appalled when I heard someone say, "Kick it!"

Then I realized it was the owner calling the dog "Cricket."

Warning Signs That a Party is Bad

My friend was invited to a party and decided to bring me with her. We had other plans so we arrived rather late, just to drop in and say hello.

Sign #1 that a party is bad:
By the time we arrived, there was one female left at the party.

Sign #2:
The lone female had to be at the party, because she lived at the house where it was being held.

Sign #3:
Before we went in my friend warned me not to talk to "Dirk," who had a habit of telling disgusting stories. I was to recognize him as the "creepy and unattractive" guy.

Sign #4:
I walked in and thought, "Which creepy and unattractive guy?"

I know that sounds horrible, but please wait to judge me. This is what I saw:

Sign #5: A guy picking at his feet.
Sign #6: A man in dirty sweatpants and a torn t-shirt, afflicted with some sort of unpleasant odor.
Sign #7: A gentleman with huge (4 inch) scabs on his elbows and either 2 black eyes or really severe sleep deprivation.
Sign #8: An emaciated fellow with poorly groomed facial hair, who smelled of cigarettes.
Sign #9: A greasy-haired individual who spoke fondly of Klingon weddings.

I am accustomed to all sorts of people, and have many friends others would consider "odd." I can tolerate weirdness or even poor social skills but am I a snob for expecting someone to practice general hygiene? Especially in the presence of females?

By the way, I found out later that "Dirk" was the guy picking at his feet.

Exhibitionist Neighbors

Dear Neighbor Across the Way,

You may not be aware that because your window directly faces mine, I can see into your bedroom (whether I want to or not). I fully understand that you may enjoy having your windows and blinds open for fresh air and light.

However, I wish to advise you that it may be prudent to seek privacy when your paramour visits you.

I've trained myself not to look in your direction, but I can still HEAR you. Even with my window closed.

The person living directly above me has an even "better" view. Apparently her screaming "That's disgusting!" dissuaded you briefly, but you have since returned to your proclivities.

Oh, and by the way, my roommate is a teaching assistant in your girlfriend's class. Your girlfriend said to her, "Oh you live in the ___ complex? My boyfriend does too. He lives in apartment ___. It's the room on the corner." Now my roommate cannot look at her without imagining the awkward jig the two of you dance in an apartment complex that contains many, many residents.

Please do us all a favor and learn to close your windows and blinds.

Thank you.

Sincerely,
Snarky

Anti-Advertisment

Yesterday on the highway I passed a car with "Sorry boys she's taken" written on the rear windshield.

On one of the side windows, in the same shaky soap writing, were the words, "She's getting hitched!"

Congratulations, whoever you are.

Google and Fear

I felt ill and decided to Google my symptoms in an attempt to understand what was wrong.

The very first search result said, "Call 911."

I began to panic because I was the only one left at work, and if I passed out there was the possibility of not being discovered until the next morning.

Then I realized the website had an an additional symptom on its list that I did not have. Also, I had an extra symptom I did not Google.

"Oh," I said. "It's just mild food poisoning. I'll be okay once every comes out again, probably in 15 minutes or so."

I Met Dolores Umbridge

This week I met a woman who made me think, "Now that's what Dolores Umbridge should look like!"

Imelda Staunton is an excellent actress and does a good portrayal of Dolores Umbridge in "Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix." She wears garish pink tweed, simpers, and sits in a horrifyingly feline-infested office. However, the book described Umbridge as "toad-like" woman, which is not the first thing that comes to mind when I think of Imelda Staunton.

The lady I met this week, however, was very much like the mental image of Umbridge I developed when reading the book. She wore bright pink clothing (two days in a row) and had bright pink lipstick. She had a broad, putty-colored face with a very wide, flat mouth. Her forearms were not particularly large, but she had thick upper arms (like a frog). She was about fifty years old, and had short, wavy hair with a wet look. She acted nice but whined in an unpleasantly sweet voice to make people do things for her.

I truly felt she would have made a convincing Umbridge.

Really, I am not trying to slur this woman. I'm just excited to meet someone who resembles a book character in person.

This was the confession of someone who spends too much time thinking about books.

Evolution of a Loser

Level 1: Dork
The other night, I walked past a man who exclaimed, "Wow!" as I passed. I ignored him and kept walking.

Level 2: Creep
About 10 minutes later he tracked me down and said, "You are really hot!"

Level 3: Jerk
He also decided it would be a good idea to TOUCH me as he came up behind me. (I cannot fathom why anyone with a reasonable grasp of manners thinks it's okay to touch a stranger without permission).

Level 4: Asshole
I replied to his compliment with a stiff, "Thank you," and returned to my conversation with my friend. He then became offended and said sarcastically, "Sorry for interupting!" (Gee, beg your pardon, sir. I suppose I should have turned into a quivering pile of melting goo once I heard your suave pick up line).

Level 5: Habitual Loser
I then realized he probably misheard me and thought I said something much more vulgar than "Thank you." The fact that he would immediately assume that led me to believe he was used to such a reception.

I can't say I'm surprised.

Smurf-Related Trauma

Many people have fond memories of childhood cartoons. I am no exception. However, I must say that my memories related to the Smurfs are less than fond.

1. There was an episode of the Smurfs where time was broken, and they shifted between night and day every few seconds. To convey this, the television screen continually flashed between light and dark. My mother saw me watching this and thought that the TV was broken. I could not convince her it was part of the show, and my dear friend Television was tossed out. (FYI, it was one of those ridiculously heavy ones that were built into ornate cabinets. I think they were popular in the 80s). The warm, comforting glow of my giant buddy was snatched from me due to an episode of the Smurfs.

2. When I was 4 or 5 years old I had a nightmare in which the entire Smurf village ganged up to assault me. Cook Smurf was particularly violent and resorted to throwing pots and pans at my head. I've woken up screaming before, but I think that was the only time I've ever woken up screaming and crying loudly enough to merit adult intervention.

You may proceed to mock me cruelly now.