Sunday, June 29, 2008

Confidence booster for Quasimoto - part 2

So I'm still sitting in the lab waiting room. I've just shut down the mean old lady (see previous entry for details on the mean old lady) - my mood has not improved and my appearance has gotten worse (not that it matters because people can't really see me through the green fog that surrounds me anyway).


And there he is. Just sitting there, staring at me. I stare back at him with my one good eye. I can hear the theme song from The Good, the Bad and the Ugly playing in my head.

He says to me, "Hey, how ya doin'?"

Crap. Just kill me now.

Hoping to end this "conversation," I grunt some inaudible response in his general direction. Sadly, it did not work.

He continues his staring contest with me and says, "Wow, it's really crowded in here huh?" Keen observation, Sherlock...

Again, hoping to end this "conversation," I grunt some inaudible response in his general direction. And again, it failed miserably.

He slides over a chair so he's a little closer to me.

Crap.

He says, "What are you here for?"

I'm sorry, what? Did he really just ask me that? I want to tell him that I'm there because I have this uncontrollable urge to kill people that irritate me - and the doctors are trying to see if there's anything that can be done to treat it. But I don't. I look over at the mean old lady who is as engrossed in this conversation as I am. She continues to stare at me with an expression of pity and disgust. I look back at the guy without saying anything.

I start twitching ever so slightly, hoping that it will freak him out and he'll quit talking to me. My attempt at creeping him out failed.

And then he says it - I'm not even lying - he totally said this. "So..... You come here often?"

Dude. Are you kidding me?

I start looking around the room for the Candid Camera crew because this just cannot be happening. I've gone my entire life without someone picking up on me - and it happens now in a lab where people are having tests done for heaven only knows what?!

I look at him through the green fog. He's just staring at me with this stupid look on his face, waiting for me to respond.

I say, "I'm sorry, I forgot the question."

He says, "Do you come here often?"

I say, "No.... but I'll bet that you do... don't you..."

He says, "Yeah! How did you know that?"

Mercifully, my name was called and I left Cassanova sitting alone, wondering in awe about my psychic abilities.

6 comments:

Billy said...

If I wasn't at the soundboard right now I would start laughing. I can't believe he asked you that at the lab. You can't write a script like that.

VikingMom said...

Between you and Kurt you guys have the elderly ladies and the sick men covered. Hee Hee.

Kristi said...

i love it...

also...between you and i and the thousands that read this...that pic looks a bit like our friend Dave Garvin (drummer)....on a bad day of course.

it wasn't him was it? cause that would be awkward.

Heidi said...

Oh Kristi - I don't know if Dave could have a day bad enough to get him to look like the goon in the picture...

And no; it wasn't him. And yes, that WOULD be awkward...

Diane Davis said...

so funny, heidi.

every once in a while i get hit on at work. the only reason people would be in my building is to visit their kids whom were taken away by CPS or to apply for welfare. but they are not shy, that's for darn sure.

i was thinking the story was going to be you ran into an old boyfriend. i think getting hit on by a stranger is better, so maybe there was mercy in this story. ;)

Don said...

Sounds like a Coen Brothers script.