Tuesday, September 18, 2018

Val Is a Crazist

On Sunday afternoon, I went to the main post office. No, I was NOT looking for a can of sardines in tomato sauce that some kind soul might have left out for me. Uh uh. I was dropping off my DISH bill, because I pay it by check through the mail, and for some reason it takes about 10 days to show up as being credited to my account. Can't have Val getting her innernets cut off!

Anyhoo...I could have dropped it in the drive-thru mailbox in Backroads, but I don't really trust the dead-mouse-smelling post office as much as the main branch. Besides, that would cost me a day in the delivery race, because the deadline at the main branch is 11:30, where they load it all on trucks for transport to the regional center. You may recall that Val is not an early riser, so I wanted to make sure it went out Monday.

The pick up time is 11:00 at the dead-mouse-smelling post office, which I think means it gets hauled around with mail pickups throughout the county, to be sent off the following day from the main post office. It's not like they send a truck over there to get mail from that specific box, and rush it to the main post office to go out by 11:30.

I prefer to take my mail inside the lobby and drop it through the slot in the wall. There are two drive-thru mailboxes at the main post office, but I have to drive on the wrong side of the street to reach them, not having a passenger to do my bidding.

There are 10-15 parking spaces at the main post office. Here, I'll re-run the long shot of my sardine can find, just so you can picture it.


On a Sunday afternoon, that place is deserted. I guess nobody else has trouble with their DISH bill, or checks their post office box on a Sunday afternoon. Anyhoo...I pulled in, thinking, YEAH, nobody is going to park next to me and keep T-Hoe's door from opening all the way! I had my choice of every single parking space, but I took the one closest to the door.

As I opened T-Hoe's door to step out, I saw a person crest the hill by the railroad tracks and the fire house, and start down a zig-zag dirt path. You can actually see the path in that picture, past the flagpole. He was at least 50 yards away, wearing a white baseball cap, a light-colored polo shirt, light shorts with pockets, and white tennis shoes. Though I don't think he was coming to or from tennis, because there are no courts around there. He was neither old nor young.

You know Val, always suspicious of anybody entering her surroundings. I was a bit wary of going in, with nobody else around, and This Guy headed in my direction. As I've mentioned, I've seen unvehicled people cutting through this parking area often, without utilizing the post office itself. So I was already putting myself on hyper-alert as I slid past T-Hoe's running board to the pavement.

"HI!"

Well, now. I suppose it behooved me to return a greeting. No one else was around. This Guy was obviously talking to me.

"HI!"

Normally, I would not engage, but my Weirdo Magnet has been less powerful lately, and I was caught off guard. Besides, it's not like I was inviting This Guy to high tea. I merely returned his greeting.

"Are you in nursing?"

WHAT IN THE NOT HEAVEN? What kind of crazy-talk was THAT? What was it even supposed to mean? Was he injured, and looking for medical attention? Do I look like a nurse? It's not like I was wearing scrubs, or a retro white uniform dress and white tights and crepe-soled white shoes and a cardboard hat pinned to my lovely lady-mullet. People stop me often in stores because they think I work there, but nobody has ever asked if I'm a nurse. Surely he was not inquiring as to whether I made a living or hobby of suckling infants! That would be just creepy. And now, I had GREETED him, and he was heading this way! Looks like my Weirdo Magnet had found a power source.

"No!"

I shook my head as I went inside. How do I get myself into these predicaments? Surely there was a camera somewhere in that lobby, or outside. For later evidence, should anything inopportune befall me. I did not rush right back out the door. I knew that at the rate This Guy had been walking, he would be just about to T-Hoe. I went down along the wall of post office boxes, looking at the assorted sizes. Noted that they had two recycle bins sitting there, but no wastebasket that could take a sardine tin off one's hands. When I figured that This Guy would be past the post office, or leaning up against T-Hoe waiting on me...I went back to the glass doors and out.

He was gone! Whew!

But here's the thing. When I had gotten out with my bill, I almost didn't lock T-Hoe's door as I went inside. I knew This Guy would hear it click, and I didn't want to seem rude. I talked to him when normally I would not. All because...he was a different race than I. You know how things are these days. I almost did not follow my self-professed safety rules of being an old lady in an isolated area with a stranger. All because I did not want to be perceived as racist.

Val IS a CRAZIST, though. So don't go asking her about nursing, out of the blue, when you don't know her, and nobody else is around. She just might ignore you.

16 comments:

  1. There is a very funny episode in "Curb Your Enthusiasm" Where Larry David realizes he did not lock his car as a man, not his color walked past him. When it the button and the lock did the bloop bloop think, the man, not his color, went on a rant about him being racist because he locked the car only as an after thought to seeing a man not of his color. Very funny easily identifiable scene about being perceived as racist when not locking the door so as not to be seen as racist would actually be racist...or something like that...anyway it was a very funny episode.

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    1. I don't know why I never watched that show. Maybe I couldn't figure out what channel whenever I thought about watching.

      Funny, like Jerry being mistaken for a nose-picker when he was just scratching the outside of his nose.

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    2. It was on HBO and still have re-runs around occasionally, hard to believe a Seinfeld fan would not find it.

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    3. THAT explains it! I don't have HBO, I have the Showtime package. I most certainly hope you ARE NOT questioning my fandom!

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    4. Not at all...the show is probably sold on DVD's, you would really like it.

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    5. I'll check into that. However...I'll have to wait for The Pony to come home at Christmas and show me how to work the DVD player! It has a separate remote, you know. I've barely learned how to work the DVR, and it's not even the HOPPER.

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  2. I always lock my car door no matter who's going by. I hope that wouldn't offend you, Val, if you happened to be going by and heard the click. I've trained mine not to do that bloop bloop thing.

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    1. T-Hoe is too old to bloop-bloop, but the click echos loudly under that parking roof. I actually MIGHT be offended, if it was just you and me around, and you clicked it when I was near your car! However...as long as you left me a can of sardines, I would forgive you.

      When I used to get up early and shop at Walmart on Sunday morning, the store was not crowded at all. Every now and then, I'd come up an aisle with only an old lady, perhaps perusing the flour selection on the baking aisle. She'd have her purse sitting in the child-seat of the cart, and scurry back to grab it when I came along. That DID kind of offend me. Seriously. I guess not only do I look like a nurse, but I look like a thief with the foot-speed of Usain Bolt.

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    2. Why on earth doesn't she just hook the purse over an arm or shoulder and keep it with her? I'm constantly amazed at how many silly women leave their handbags in the child seat and most of them are wide open! Anybody could reach in, grab something and keep walking, and often enough, that did happen. At my checkout I was always telling women to be more careful and they'd thank me, but not take the advice.

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    3. I'm sure that even if they followed that advice, they'd still give me that accusing look!

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  3. That is kind of a weird thing to ask, unless he'd phoned for someone in nursing to help, maybe with a problem at home, and was meeting them there. I don't think locking a door would be seen as racist, that man probably locks his doors too. Personal safety is more important than what somebody else might think.

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    1. He might have been meeting someone, because he wasn't grubby like the old guys I've seen cutting through there. That "nurse" thing threw me off, since it seems so random.

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  4. If you told him you were a teacher, that probably would have scared the hell out of him!!

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    1. I certainly scared the Not-Heaven out of a couple of kids! All with the stink-eye.

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  5. I always lock my doors, it is just a habit. My Dad insisted that we keep our cars locked, even in our driveway. Kind of like buckling up is a habit. If anyone finds it offensive; oh well. That he asked if you were in nursing is really strange. That would have made my hackles rise.

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    1. We leave our car doors unlocked at home. Hick says that if an escapee from the prison makes it four miles out here, he wants him to be able to hot-wire the vehicles, and not break in looking for a key. I'm pretty sure that's his undeveloped sense of humor.

      See? It would have made you uncomfortable, too, and you even WERE IN NURSING, if I remember correctly... Or else, like me, you just look like you were.

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