Strange

Strange.

Yesterday morning as I was passing through downtown, I saw a young, bald male standing on a corner waving his arms like he’s trying to flag someone down. Except, instead of a person opposite corner him, as his focus of attention…he seemed to be trying to flag down a building. There was no person on the opposite corner, on any opposite corner, there was just this building where he seemed to be looking, waving wildly like “wait! Wait! I’m right here! Come back!!”…as if the building were in some way in danger of missing him and passing on its way. It was a bank or insurance building…that type, with no one even looking out the windows. And I thought: “we’re all a little bit strange…aren’t we?” We are all, at some point, doing something which must make perfect sense in the moving world of our little minds…but makes no sense whatsoever to any possible onlooker. We all, at some point, speak and make wonderful sense to ourselves…from our own perspective…but come out sounding bizarre or jackass-ish to anyone else listening. No one escapes this fate. Young or old, tall or small, black brown or peach…male or female…everybody makes an ass out of themselves. Everyone says something stupid, or is seen doing something that makes no sense to anyone else. We are all a little bit strange.
Today I look like my right breast is lactating Mt. Dew. I am drinking this blessed beverage from a can…whereas I usually drink it from a 20-oz bottle. The bottle has a little bit of “airspace” at the top of it, so when you begin to tip the bottle the Dew doesn’t immediately spill out. Cans are not like that. Thus, on first tip, not paying attention, I dribble Mt. Dew down my front. It just so happens that the yellow Dew dribble is leading down and away from my right nipple. As I’m wearing a white cottony shirt, the yellow stain is quite noticeable. Staring. Then smiles, then constant glancing. I suppose it looks a little bit strange. –Gypsy.

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