The Power of Val's Weirdo Magnet Crosses State Lines

You'd think I could escape weirdos by driving (riding) 9.5 hours from home with a jabbing sweaver. But no. My weirdo magnet's pull is epic.

Thanksgiving night, after our casino buffet feast at Riverwind Casino, The Pony and I worked our way towards the front of the casino. We parted ways as I entered the women's bathroom and The Pony continued losing. Let the record show that riding 9.5 hours does my knees no favors. Nor does traipsing around a casino. I move slowly.

When I came out the open maze-like entrance of the restrooms, a man was standing against the half-wall across from it. I assumed he was waiting for a companion to exit the restrooms. He met my eye briefly, as I hobbled down the slight ramp to enter the FREE SODA room. Imagine my surprise when Waiting Guy followed me.

There are two soda fountains in there. I went to the one on the right. Pulled a cup. Pushed the lever for ice, and started filling my cup with Diet Pepsi (!). I don't like people behind me. I glanced around to keep track of Waiting Guy. He was just standing there, looking at me. CREEPY! When he saw me looking, he went to the soda fountain on the left. Stood there. Didn't pull a cup.

What in the NOT-HEAVEN?

I added a dash of lemonade to my beverage, and got the Not-Heaven out of there! Of all the times for nobody else to be lined up at the soda fountains! The entrance is wide, but the soda fountains are in an alcove to the right. Not seen from outside on the main walkway.

Sure, Waiting Guy probably had no ill intentions. But he could have easily knocked me in the head, or grabbed my gambling over-the-shoulder purse and toppled me over while making a swift getaway. Although a 30-something dude running with a purse MIGHT have seemed suspicious.

But that's not my WEIRDEST Oklahoma weirdo encounter this time.

As we were getting ready to leave the Grand Casino on our way to the Thanksgiving buffet, I told Hick and The Pony to wait while I made a stop at the bathroom. Again, it was an open entrance, with a little maze turn to block the stalls from view. Once I made the turn, I went to the first stall.

It was a handicap stall, which I have no qualms about using. I need the bar apparatus to hoist myself off the throne, my knees bullying me into such a process. The door was wooden, with louvers, and painted yellow.

I pulled the door open, stepped inside, and turned to reach for the door to pull it closed. The door would not move, because

A WOMAN WAS HOLDING IT OPEN!

It was like an opposite battle of Lucy and Ethel over the armrest at the movie theater. Instead of pushing, we were both pulling. She was a bleached blonde 50-something gal, leathery skin and sinewy arms. Pretty stong. She met my eye, and said,

"Oh. I thought this was the door."

Sheesh! At first, I'd thought she was protesting my entry into the handicap stall! Although she herself did not seem to be physically handicapped. A casino worker stood cleaning a nearby sink, watching us in the mirror. Grabby glared at me like I'd dared to renovate the entrance while she'd been in her stall. Then turned and left through the maze opening. I closed that door, shaken by the unexpected confrontation.

I'm glad that door had a good latch!