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January 21, 2006 - Saturday | 3:21 AM, CST
I had a doctor's appointment a few days ago, which for some reason, I never seem to enjoy. My appointment was scheduled for 7:30, so I called at 7:00 to inquire as to what time I should come. "Be here at 8:15." Ok, thats fine. I brought some chicken out of the fridge and began to trim and cut it into chunks to make a delicious homemade stir-fry. At 7:30, halfway through cutting the chicken, my phone rings. "Can you come in now for your appointment?" So I put the chicken back into the fridge and try to make it to the doctor's office as quick as I can.
I arrive fifteen minutes later (it would have been sooner had the roads not been icy) and checked in at the desk. Across from me in the waiting room was one of those people we all dread: obese, filthy sweatpants, dirty coat, foul odor, unkempt hair, but with nerdy looking glasses. The kind of person who was the social outcast in high school because he ate his boogers and took a shit without flushing the toilet, but with some brain power in there somewhere with enough knowledge to have a pretend-intelligent conversation. These are the people who love striking up a conversation with anyone they meet, which is the exact opposite of me, who typically struggles to find things to say while talking and finds conversations filled with uncomfortable silences.
The magazines in the rack didn't have much appeal, but I found one and soon began to read a fairly engrossing article on cardiac arrythmias (a topic of interest to me). Unfortunately for me, my face must not have shown enough enthusiasm because the slob across from me began to tell me (very slowly, I might add) all the neat things he'd read drom his magazine.
Slob: Man, in this magazine I'm reading, there's this guy, and he's driving on this road, and he sees a person jump off this bridge, and then he jumps in to save them. Man, I wouldn't jump off a bridge to save someone. You jump off a bridge, you must not want saving.
Me: Yep... makes sense.
I bury my nose further into my magazine, hoping he'll take the hint
Slob: Its like this one time, I read in another magazine, about this woman holding a baby, and she was running away from a tornado, and she was trying to get underneath a bridge, but the bridge had collapsed because of the tornado, but she didn't know it, and so she fell over this cliff, but the tornado was right behind her, and when she jumped it sucked her back up and she landed back on the road without a scratch on her or the baby.
Me: Yeah, tornados are pretty weird like that...
Slob: Well, actually really they're not if you understand the science behind a tornado. You see, I used to chase tornados because, well, there was nothing better to do! *chuckle* And you see some strange things. Tornados don't actually blow things over, they suck them up. Thats why the roof off a house will come off, but sheds next to the house might not be harmed.
Me: They're pretty interesting, huh?
He went on in this fashion for another few minutes, until my noncommittal responses and long uncomfortable silences gave him the hint. At that point, another winner walked through the door: the young trailer trash mother. For those of you who've never gotten a trailer trash mother doll for Christmas, they're equipped with noisy, filthy babies, unwashed hair in an attractive ponytail, fancy cell phones, and fashionable sweatsuits they've perfumed with cartons of taxpayer funded cigarettes. Her entrance into the situation took the pressure off of me to make conversation with the Slob, as he began asking her all sorts of questions regarding the baby's age, gender, etc., and giving insightful comments on the challenges of raising children.
The Slob was called in shortly thereafter, and in the next half hour, the trasherette mom received a grand total of eight voice messages on her fancy cell phone, as well as two regular calls which were the basis for loud arguing with what I assume was her significant other as to who was going to get to use the car and when. Two other moms also came in during this time, each sporting filthy, crying babies.
Remember that 7:30 appointment which had me coming in at lightning speed? I saw the doctor a little after nine, much too late to get any perscriptions filled. Oh well, what can you do? Its not to say that I don't mind waiting on the doctor, because I realize that a thorough exam and attention to detail is necessary... but in that time I would have had no trouble fixing and consuming a delicious stir-fry.
It may interest you to know that during the course of this journal entry, I took a break to fix some Ramen noodles. While I was sitting on the couch eating, I distinctly heard a knocking noise coming from the rear of the house. With the time being four o'clock in the morning, naturally I stopped eating and craned my head around trying to discover the source of the knocking. I looked down and saw the cat, which was laying on my lap, was also looking intently to discover the source. He then looked up at me with a "What the hell?" expression on his face, before I shrugged and went back to my noodles.
Another strange event occurred a few weeks ago. I was in the shower at the time whistling Christmas songs. I paused for a break, and perhaps a second and a half later, I distinctly heard whistling from what I supposed to be the kitchen. Just two notes, a high and a low. I stood on my toes peering over the shower door for several minutes, before I shrugged and went back to bathing... but without the whistling.
I also plan on uploading several photo galleries in the near future. Mostly pictures I've taken at parties and such. If you have a problem with your face being shown, let me know and I'll insert a black box over your eyes and nipples. Until next time, when I have more ideas for you, and you'll have things you want to talk about, and I... will... too.
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