Can You Vague That Up For Me?

Bronwyn Green's Random Thoughts

The people I meet…

I went out to supper with a friend I haven’t seen in about a year and while we were catching up, she asked if I had any good weirdo magnet stories for her.

It’s no secret that if there is a weird person in the vicinity he or she (usually he) will feel an uncontrollable compulsion to tell me really personal information that I have no desire to hear. So I told her about the IRS guy. This guy wasn’t weird in the TMI department, but the conversation was bizarre. You can’ read the tale of weird here, if you like. (Scroll down to the bottom.)

I also told her about Crazy McCrazypants who I met last month at the car shop while I was waiting for my car, Squishy, to be fixed. My friend wanted to know why I hadn’t blogged about this, yet. So, here it is.

Me: (sitting in the auto shop, frantically stitching on my nephew’s Christmas stocking.)

Guy: (stands directly in front of me) What are you making?

Me: A stocking.

Guy: For who?

Me: My nephew.

Guy: Oh. Is that the real color of your eyes?

Me: Uhhhh… Yes. (For the record, they’re blue. Nothing special…not violet, not indigo, not cerulean, just blue.)

Guy: (staring in a creepily intense way) They’re very pretty.

Me: Ummm…thanks. (looking around for another place to move, but all the chairs are taken except the one next to me. Guess who sits down.)

Guy: Do you watch Dancing with the Stars?

Me: (Fwuh?) No. I’m not really big into reality TV.

Guy: My wife loves it. She’s obsessed. She tapes them and watches them over and over.

Me: Oh, how…nice?

Guy: She wants me to take dancing classes with her, but I can’t. I’ve got Crohn’s Disease and it hurts to dance, plus I don’t really like it. Really, she just likes that Donny Osmond a lot. He seems like a nice fellow, but you can never tell about those Hollywood types, can you?

Me: No…you really can’t. They’re a wily bunch.

Guy: See? That’s what I tell my wife, but she still wants to meet Donny and go on the show, but you have to be a star to do that. I think that’s why she wants to take those dancing classes. (This degenerates into an thirty minute long monologue on Crohn’s Disease and all of the rest of his health problems. Then he pulls out a newspaper and I foolishly think I’ll be spared more conversation. How very, very wrong I was.)

Guy: (pointing at a picture of two young women on the back page.) Those Iranians are going to put these two girls to death. Do you know what their crime is?

Me: (knowing where this is going) I’m gonna go with Christianity.

Guy: Exactly. They want to kill them because they believe in Jesus. What do you think of that?

Me: I think all people should be free to worship however they choose.

Guy: (stares at me for a minute and then pulls out a religious tract.) Can I interest you in the Good Word?

Me: No thank you.

Guys: (mutters about the Taliban, Osama Bin Laden, the one true god, infidels and so on for several minutes.)

Guy: ( pulls a picture of the Mackinac Bridge out of the tract and jabs at it with his finger.) Have you ever been here?

Me: Yes, I have.

Guy: What did you think?

Me: Well, the bridge scares me, but I love the U.P. (for you non-Michigan types, that’s the Upper Peninsula – it’s gorgeous.)

Guy: (looks at the front of his tract again and points at the mountain range on the front.) Do you know what that is?

Me: Looks like the Rocky Mountains.

Guy: (seems very pleased that I got the right answer) It sure is. Ever seen ’em in real life?

Me: I had a lovely view of them from a hotel window.

Guy: (looking wistful) John Denver sure did love them Rocky Mountains.

Me: I suppose he did. (Seriously, what the hell do you say to that?)

Guy: Do you think John Denver ever went to the U.P.?

Me: (ignores the dude behind the desk who’s snickering) I…I don’t know. Maybe?

Guy: I bet not. If he had, he surely would have written a song about it.

Me: Can’t argue with that logic.

I can’t remember where in the conversation it took place, but there was also a lengthy discourse on his grandmother and how she baked 514 sugar cookies one day. In case your wondering at the precise number, it was so every member of his high school marching band could have two.

Shortly after he determined that John Denver had never been to the Upper Peninsula, his car was ready. Before he left he reminded me to give God and Dancing with the Stars a chance. All I know is that if I ever see that maroon minivan in the parking lot of the auto shop, I’m going somewhere else!

So do people ever strike up bizarro conversations with you? My mom and sister have the same mutant ability – we’re thinking genetic predisposition or family curse.

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16 thoughts on “The people I meet…

  1. I LIVE for your weirdo magnet stories. I don't get the same stuff but I do get the people who tell me what to do with my life. And the people who screw me over magnet.

    But in all fairness, my Bron, you do have lovely pale blue eyes. And they're HUGE and blinky and round and covered it eyelashes that are blinky and wide too. Besides. You're wise and shit.

    Can't argue with that logic. *snort*

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  2. with. not “it”

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  3. I fair just fine unless I go into the library. OMG. You wouldn't believe the ultimate weirdness that stalks the library of my little town. It's on par to the subways of Toronto.

    Yup, I get them in there, cause I'm special like that.
    Great story.

    hugs,
    Kris

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  4. I've met my share of weird people on the craft fair circuit, but the only one who comes to mind is the teenager who would not shut up and drove customers away from my booth.
    Same kind of rambliness.

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  5. The fact that I'm friends with you makes me wonder if I'm a weirdo who has been magnetically attracted to you.

    Nah…

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  6. *blink blink* I think I might've pretended to have a seizure or maybe asked him “Do you know what the symptoms are H1N1 are?”

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  7. Honey, of course you're a weirdo magnet–you put up with me, don't you?

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  8. *chuckle* Fun story! A weirdo magnet, are you? I'm usually the one snickering in the background, like that guy behind the desk πŸ™‚ Nope, I'm not a weirdo magnet, more like a hotties magnet *cough* I wish *cough*. LOL!

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  9. Whereas, I'm probably the weirdo you have to deal with since I have a congenital predisposition to talking to total strangers…

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  10. Aww, thanks Mia. πŸ™‚

    Kris, I always call ahead to the library – get in and get right back out is my policy. Sort of a strategic strike. πŸ˜‰

    Molly – what kind of crafts?

    Marg, Cindy and Anny – you're all weird but in the most awesome kind of way. πŸ˜‰ I honestly don't mind talking to strangers – you meet some great people that way, but this get was just a little too nutburger for me. πŸ™‚

    Chris – clearly I need to take lessons from you on thinking faster! Swine flu would have been brilliant.

    Janna – you've got something better – you're a nice person magnet. πŸ˜€

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  11. Aww, thanks, that's so sweet of you *blush*

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  12. OMG…This is the funniest story everrrr. And yes, I'm a weirdo magnet too. Everywhere I go, the craziest, most insane loon will find me, follow me around and tell me his/her troubles. This is why I hide in my cave most of the time. I've heard about exotic and not so exotic diseases, someone's divorce, religious/political beliefs, alien landings. You name it. We should hang out Bron. Double hits of craziness.

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  13. Craft fair=festivals, fish fryes (fries??), town festivals, etc.

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  14. All the lonely people
    Where do they all come from?
    All the lonely people
    Where do they all belong?

    All the lonely people
    Thank god for good hygiene
    All the lonely people
    They all find Browyn Greene.

    πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€
    G.

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  15. Bronwyn*

    Grumbling* Frickin' Monday . . . .

    Like

  16. Pingback: The Worst Place I’ve Ever Been Stuck – What Happened | Can You Vague That Up For Me?

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