Conversation with a Stranger

Last night, I went to dinner with some folks (yum - prime rib - not entirely "weight watchers" approved, but whatever). The food was delish, the company was great, and the restaurant PACKED. To the rim. In fact, it was so packed that people were hanging out of the windows and dangling from the rafters. So hungry were they that the smells wafting from the kitchen were turning them all into crazed, meat eating zombies.

So we finish our delightful meal, and when we were done, we were faced with a challenge of olympic proportions - how to get from the dining table to the car? Perhaps we could try the pole vault? Hmm. Not likely. Hefting our meat filled bellies up and over the throngs of drooling diners would not be pretty. What about sprinting? If we wanted to use humans for hurdles, maybe.

Tricky.

Whatever the method, getting through the crowd whilst carrying my precious leftovers would require agility and stealth, given the hoards of hungry people stuffed into every nook and cranny. And frankly - given that I am still nursing the pirate leg...I, um, have neither agility nor stealth. No, instead of launching ourselves from a circus canon midget-style, it would have to be the good old fashioned walk-through for us.

So there I was, awkwardly squishing my way through the crowd, when this cute little old lady with an underbite like a bulldog looks me in the eye and says "mwahblahhumdeda hurts."

Me: "Excuse me?"

Her: "I said your foot hurts. You're limping."

Me: (Throws back head and cackles) "Oh! I thought you said your butt hurts!"

Her: (Throws back her head and cackles) "No - I just noticed your limp."

Me: "Yeah - I just had surgery on my knee. But I misunderstood. I thought you were telling me that your butt hurts. Like you had been sitting too long or whatever. I was gonna to tell you that perhaps you ought to get up and walk around!"

Her: "Hilarious. That's great!"

Then I carried on past her, throwing 'bows in the paint, as they say, and phew. I made it safely outside.

As we were driving home, I started thinking about some of the crazy things we say to complete strangers. I mean - what if she really had looked me in the eye and told me that her ass was afflicted? How would one appropriately respond to that? Conversely, what if I had been born with one leg longer than the other, and walking with a limp was the norm for me? That would be kind of like me putting my hand out to shake hands with someone before I noticed that he had no arms*.

But happy day! There are several important things to note here:

1 - I submit to thee even more evidence that I am not the only one afflicted with word vomit syndrome, and
2 - That other than a bizarre conversation with a blue-hair, we made it through the crowd without any olympic maneuvering, and
3 - My leftover prime rib has been safely stored in the fridge for later. Phew for that, right? There were no zombies 'noshing on my goodies.

Thanks for the laugh, little old lady with the bulldog underbite. I am still cracking up.




* Not that I've ever done that, but it sounds like something I'd do - knowing me.