Tuesday, December 5, 2017

Dumbest Things I've Seen or Heard, LIST ONE

In my life, which has been far from average or predictable, I've managed to collect a few moments that break the brain's logic center.

I've always rationalized that these moments exist so that we can remember that things are not normal on this planet. In other words, it's the Creator's way of keeping us on our toes- so to speak.

I'll begin with a classic. 

I worked for many years at a very successful children's theatre that specialized in classic fairy tales told through the art of European style puppetry. It was a pinky's up type place set in the lavish hall of capitalism, North Park Center in Dallas, Texas.  At least once a month, if not more, there would be some aristocratic patron with her tribe of pasty white Polo shirt wearing kids that would storm the gates of the theatre first thing on a Saturday morning asking the following question:

"What time does the 10:30 show start?" 
To which, we would respond, "10:30."  (this happened all the time) 

As the years went by, the sarcasm increased and we would respond without giving these people any sort of benefit of the doubt.  At one point, when I was the owner (briefly) of this theatre, I responded to this question of "what time does the 10:30 show start" with, "clearly you know the answer to that already."  This was toward the end of my joy for this place...

Next up on the list of stupid stuff I've heard or seen involves the same place as the above example.

During the holiday season in the cathedral of Capitalism (North Park Center), we (the theatre) would always put on a production of a holiday favorite. The last year I worked at this place/co-owned it, I had employed my brother to help with set building and running the retail area/crunching numbers, etc.. 
The holiday season at North Park Center in Dallas, Texas, is the worst of humanity all crammed into a marble floored palace of overpriced bullsh** and horrible Modern Art from the Nasher Collection. (Modern art sucks. I don't care what you think, it sucks)

Anyway... just paintin' a picture of the horrible types of people that frequent that place as though it's an extension of their kid's pre-school.  Spoiled is an understatement.   Everyone at Northpark reminds me of the people in Kubrick's, "Eyes Wide Shut." Totally Bohemian Grove secret society types... miserable wives who compete with other miserable wives for the attention of their uninterested evil rich a-hole husbands who are slipping ME their phone number at their 3 year old's birthday party. Ewwww. NO THANKS.

We were putting on the production of "The Little Drummer Boy," when a woman who was covered in diamonds and holding the ears of her 6 year old male child came in and very quietly whispered with her eye brows suspiciously arched in  inquiry....

"Excuse me. Ma'am, yes, Excuse ME! Assistance please!... I have a question before I buy tickets for this. We are waiting in line for Santa and have a couple of hours to kill so this would be great but I'm concerned and I want an honest answer from you or your staff..." 

Me: Okay. Shoot. 

"Is the (reading the Marquee as though she's never read anything in her life) Little Druh-m Drummer Boy, yes, is that scary?" 

Me: Huh? Are you serious?

"Don't get smart with me blondy. (a classic insult I used to get by these types) I asked you a simple question and I expect a simple answer. Is it scary?" 

My Brother: that depends on whether you think the birth of Christ is a terrifying moment in history... your call ma'am.

"okay fine. 2 tickets please. If this scares my son, I will be talking to your manager!"  

End of that story? They saw the show. They walked out as though that whole conversation above never happened. These kinds of things kept me up at night. I would just imagine these people driving on a major highway and I started sweating.

Working at the Miami Dade County Fair at a Virtual Reality theater alongside a team of the most smartass people on the planet (including my brother), we had 5 weeks of the worst possible conditions. Tropical storm during the set up of the outdoor theatre, a rented apartment that was in Ft. Lauderdale (google map that... we drove that daily)...and of course, the idiot New Jersey-shore types that infiltrated Miami during the summer months. THE WORST. I have to say this off the record... The Jersey-shore-ish type youth are the dumbest people on the planet AND they are aggressive (usually a stupid person trait)... they react like a bunch of feral cats when you challenge their brains with 'new information.'  Hissing, swiping their long fingernails at you, fur standing up...oh I mean... hair... Anyway... you get the point.

Week 4 of the WORST GIG EVER...  
It was my brother, myself, and this dude from Philly named Jeremy. Jeremy was one of those young guys that had been in trouble for spray painting "Anarchist" type stuff on federal buildings. (he was hilarious) He looked like a member of the Beastie Boys....

Well.. We had "about had it" with Miami.  The virtual reality theater set up was an outdoor stage that looked like a bunch of leather arm chairs bolted to some graduated steps. You put on a headset and watched basically a cartoon and used your body to "score points" by "beating up the bad guy." (remember that this was Pre-Wii... so it was cool-ish back then)

So (this is relevant)... it's a bunch of chairs bolted down onto bleacher seating. It goes nowhere. It does nothing. From the audience perspective, all one would see is a group of people yelling, while seated, and shooting at stuff and saying things like "bang bang. Hello Shifty! Go!" (then screaming and stomping their feet to "score points") 
 So.... again.... imagine sitting on your couch wearing heavy goggles and just acting crazy and hoping you win a prize.
Got it? I can't stress that enough and you'll know why in a minute.

A group of wild terrible New Jersey vacationers with their stupid haircuts and gold chains came schlepping up to the booth like they were extras in Good Fellas... "Yo. Say Yo... 'ey... (whistle)... Yo so whaddit do?"  My brother explains it, thoroughly. (if you know my brother, you know what I mean by THOROUGHLY)  These stupid Jersey guys just stare at him. I step in and say, "Look, it's a game. Like a virtual reality game. You go on a quest and the more you move, the more points you score. It's 5 bucks, it lasts 10 minutes. That's the deal." 

The oldest one of the group who was probably about 25 years old, was just staring at the theatre watching people play the game. So... I walked off. That's when they got Philly Anarchy guy, Jeremy. Jeremy walks up to them, "Yo are yous guys gonna sign up or wat!? Come on man you holdin' up the line man, sign up or step off bro." 

That's when the whole crew of these idiots walked back up to pay their money to play the game/see the show... But they had ONE question before they gave us their money. And remember folks... they have stood there for over 3 cycles of people playing the game. They know what it "looks like" and what it "doesn't do." 

This is the question that we all heard, but was asked to Philly Jeremy...

"Say... so um like is it a roller coaster?" 

**even though we were in the middle of a fair ground full of loud AF Jersey vacationers, time seemed to stop and go in slow motion.... the stupidest thing ever had been said and it stopped time itself.***

Jeremy couldn't respond because the time space continuum had been altered by the stupidest thing ever so.... he just rocked back and forth and made a gurgling sound with his mouth and rolled his eyes back in his head until the Jersey guy was so weirded out that he walked off quietly.... 

My brother and I still laugh about that. It was the most epic response without being epic or really a response of any sort... which made it epic.


Next on the list of "classics" would have to be the story of the worst time of my life... 
It was after I came home injured from my tour with the circus. (true story for those of you who don't know... yes, I joined the circus at 33 years old)... I came back to ruin. No money. No nothing. I had been screwed over by everyone I knew and the karmic wheel of my past ran over me about 47 times upon arrival home. 

Several months after coming home to "hell on earth 2011," my boyfriend and I had to figure out how to make some money. He too had been run over by the wheel of fate and I couldn't help but think some of my karmic wheels had gone rogue into his world too.  I had an idea that just might work. We could sell puppets at various festivals and weekender type markets. I had made a killing back in the day selling these marionettes that looked like birds at fairs, etc...

So why not?! I spent my last dime ordering these birds in bulk. Most of the strings were broken, and I still figured it would be easier to sit up all night repairing them then it would be to send them back. So....my brother, Logan and myself all stayed up repairing these P.O.S. bird puppets in hopes of selling them over the weekend at a craft market festival thing in east Texas.  If we sold even half of them, we could all make 500 bucks a piece. Not bad.

That didn't happen.

We set up shop. Had our tent set, display was great... had cash to give change... impressive display for the poorest and most broken down people in DFW at the time.  Across from our set up was a truck full of WOLF PUPPIES. WOLF. ACTUAL WOLF PUPS. Is that not the most white trash shit you've ever heard in your life?  Granted... I wanted one.

During this uninteresting white trash showcase of 2011, there was some snaggle toothed thin methy looking dude that was 'breaking bad' on his old school BMX bicycle. He was totally scoring or selling meth to various vendors. For sure. Actually... maybe that's me giving him too much credit. I think he might have been just a meth addict burning off the tweeks on that bike. 

With every passing minute of selling nothing and watching people irresponsibly purchase wolf puppies, we broke down our invisible light barrier... Our "bubble of invisible protection" against the dredges of society was ripping open slowly like a tear in the crack of your favorite pants.

METHod  Man- Alternative Universe Slim Shady kept rolling by and it all clicked with us that he had been yelling at us since 7:00am the previous day. We had just not "tuned into his frequency" so to speak, and didn't HEAR him.  Finally we did...

"Say... Hay... HAY... why don' yall jus' put a stick on it?" 

Me: What? 
Logan: What are you talkin' about dude? 
My brother: (just sighed and slightly growled) 

"Jus' go'on and put a stick on 'em. Like 'at right ch'er... ah STICK. Puuuut a STICK on 'em." (then he would maniacally laugh as though it was the most clever thing he'd ever thought of) 

He rolled around us for 2 full days saying those lines...
We packed up our things. We left. We cried. We were wolf-less, penniless, and had cerebral damage.

***Side note: How do you know if you are in a full blown white trash world.... Wolf Pups for sale out of the back of a truck.  Also... pale freckled Scandinavian looking people selling "authentic Native American wares." Never forget that. ***

My tattoo.
I have ONE tattoo and it's on my forearm. It is the most recognizable state in the U.S.A. Yes, I have a tattoo of the state of Texas on my forearm. It's solid black, clean lines, and fairly large.

About 2 years ago, at a professional establishment, with college educated professionals hovering with cocktails all around me, I had to engage in small talk with a group of people about my "exciting life," and blah blah blah...  This woman, around 28 years old (I looked her up after this incident of stupidity royale) said the following sentence, and may the good Lord strike me down if I'm lying...

(sigh... okay here it goes)

"Yeah so I am so sorry for asking this but like I have to ask... Did you know that your birthmark looks like exactly like the State of Texas? That is amazing! I mean what are the chances, right?" 

Listen to me people... I have a great tattoo. It is clearly a tattoo. It is clearly NOT a birthmark of amazing coincidence.  So if you are wondering how I responded to that, I can tell you very quickly... I didn't.

I worked at a newspaper in Downtown Dallas. Horrible job. Horrible. I shared an office with the County Clerk within the RECORDS BUILDING. It looked like the 4th floor in the show "Parks and Rec" where they all dreaded going. Ironically enough, I too worked on the 4th floor.

 Anyway. I met some great people that worked there for eons but there was one lady that worked there that was certifiably insane. Well... there were a few, but this one lady took the Blue Ribbon. Her name was Martha. She was from some part of South America or somewhere that speaks Spanish but with a lisssssp. I know they do that in Barthhhhelona, Spain, but she wasn't from Spain.

She wouldn't wash her hands after the restroom, she would use "cream" and just simply moisturize them. This was the first red flag I waived, though meekly, but I still WAVED it. 

Back in those days, I was very broke, very miserable, but I was trying to be healthy and keep the dream alive in any way I could. I had a very strict diet at one point. I was trying the Raw Foodist thing. This was WAY before it was "cool"... Anyway, that's relevant. I always took my lunch with me to work. It usually included several bananas (it's hard to get full on a Raw food vegan diet)...

Martha always watched me eat and made me nervous. One time when I ate garlic on some pasta, she started crying. I'm not lying. She cried and ran to the County Clerk and "told on me" for eating garlic. I mean, sure that's stinky and maybe not the best idea in the workplace, but we were in a busted ass building with rats in the stairwells... so who really cares? The whole place kind of smells like urine anyway. Garlic only helped it... and hey, it keeps vampires away... which also worked there.

ANYWAY... I digress. 

I was eating bananas one day for lunch. Martha was watching me, as usual, and she said the following with her lispy spanish accent whilst putting "dee creams on her hand for cleanings"...

"Ju' knowthhh, Bananas are berry fathenings." 
Me: Huh? No. I mean, sure they could be but it's literally all I'm eating for lunch.

"Ju' gets fat eating banana. Dey are berry berry fatthenings." 
Me: Okay Martha. I got it. I'm going to get fat. I don't care. I'm hungry.

"No no no ju' think about dis things. Ju' alway es'thrying to looooose weight, no? Banana is berry fatthening. Berry. "  "Banana having lots of fatthening tings in dems. Wheats, de rice, fats, es'corns..." 

Me: (I stop eating) Wait... what? Did you just say that bananas have wheat, rice, fats and corn in them? Like, INSIDE the bananas?  Is that what you are saying to me?

"J'yess... corns, es'fats, wheat, rice, all those tings. Berry fatthening, banana.... berry." 

**My friend and I would only bring bananas to work after that. And my friend one time said, "Oh Mel, look, my banana has a hot pocket in it?"  Then I said, "No shit?! Oh my GOD, mine is really fattening today... a whole pepperoni pizza" Then we build the joke from there..... Martha quit. *

...To be continued....

1 comment:

  1. Crazy cat lady... yeah I know. We all have 1 - 12 at our place of work. But this gal will 100% be found eaten by her 23 personal cats. This does not include the swarms that she feeds behind her building. How am I certain of said death by cats like in Tales from the crypt? Because she put her aging mother in a hellhole psychiatric ward and is using all of her retirement savings to “rescue” cats! Do not be this person!


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