Homeless Deer of Long Island

You know that you have a knack for making people feel uncomfortable when you prove to have the ability to get a straggly homeless man to walk away from you.

A few nights ago, my roommate and I were sitting at the bar of our favorive pizza joint, conveniently located a block from our home. It only took about 4 minutes for the the creepy older man to my left to take an interest in me.

It would be a lie if I said that this has never happened before. By nature, I am polite and nice to people and sometimes this attracts creepers. I would rather be a creeper magnet than a bitch, I think.

Anyways, the gentleman looks at me and smiles.

" I had paid my tab but when you sat next to me, I decided that I would stay for one more beer. I'm not a forward guy, but I'm not dumb enough to leave either." He giggled at his own sort of funny joke.

It was strange. He was older, had beer belly that could compete with any globe of the world found in 4th grade classrooms nation wide, and he was clearly more socially awkward than I am, but I was oddly flattered.

Flattery lasted about as long as a heard of snowmen in a hot tub. After twenty minutes of listening to this man recite his weight fluctuation history and high school track/field records from the 1800s, I was ready to move on.

I slowly turned my body back to my roommate, but she was in deep flirtations with a nice looking, age appropriate man. I was out of luck and I knew I would be forced to make up ridiculous stories to make the night bearable.

As I turned around, the man was still talking and he mentioned that he had spent the afternoon golfing with his brother.

" I love golf. In fact I started the very first female golf team when I was in college. My uncle taught me to play when I was little and I have just always enjoyed it. You may have heard of him, he is on TV every once in a while, his name is Tiger Woods."

Awkward Silence.

Just then, my favorite homeless man, Mark approached us and gave me a huge hug and kiss on the cheek.

People judge Mark because he lives in an abandoned car warehouse or maybe because he looks like he is being electrocuted every time he hits the dance floor. He is nice though and he drinks quality beer and those are two things that I look for in a friend. He passes with flying colors.

Mark is also very deep, or at least he tries to be. He is always telling me things like

" Your soul is a garden on radishes. It needs sunshine and happiness as much as hard times and rain to let it form into a pumpkin pie."

Like I said, deep.

I introduced Mark to my new golfing weight fluctuating friend and they quickly hit it off. Mark told him that his heart felt like a a starving squid, or something equally as weird and I tapped myself on the back for matchmaking skills. I had single handedly blossomed this friendship and I had ever right to be damn proud.

I ordered another drink, and when I turned back to the happy couple, they were discussing how a raccoon had gotten into a hospital somewhere in the midwest.

At this point in the evening it is important to note that I had gulped 2+ Long Island Iced teas. Sometimes when I drink, I think that the more LIs I drink, the soberer I get but this is simply just not the case. I was just at the right level of drunkenness where my bar lies were becoming quite extravagant and I was feeling pretty competitive. Bad combination.

I couldn't just sit there and let them tell this story about raccoons in hospitals. I had to one- up them and tell a better story. there is no explanation for what popped out of my mouth next.

" Oh thats nothing." I said casually. " Last week I came home from work and there was a deer in my living room. No idea how it got there. It took me 20 minutes to shew it out with a broomstick"

Silence. again.

Homeless Mark and the creepy old man glanced at eachother, speechless. When I turned my head to slip my drink, they both walked away without a goodbye. I hope at the very least they left together to develop the beautiful friendship that I started. At least that way I can note the evening as a success.

If only room clearing was an olypmic sport.

Victory!

There is an awkward convention at the Philly airport today and naturally I attended. Today I have seen women in ball gowns, a handful of large teenagers in small amounts of clothing. I have listened to a young child cry because he father refused to let her to eat pizza at 9am and I watched two separate men trip when they tried to escape the moving side walk. There also seems to be a strong bald population traveling today. I remember Mr. clean fondly. I love airports, the opportunities for people watching seem to be endless.

Sometimes I wonder if people are watching me to. I suppose its not a far fetched idea to think that a stranger may be telling her friends about something silly I have done in public. Maybe I am even in someone’s blog somewhere.

I have a game that I like to play in airports. I suppose that it is more of a race than a game but I often keep score, so I think that it counts.

I never use the moving sidewalks. Even if I am late. It never fails that I get stuck behind someone who either is standing completely still or walks slower than I would like and I felt like I could get to my terminal fast if I just walked at a brisk speed. I also had a bad experience involving a moving sidewalk last year and I am a little nervous about giving them another try.
How does this qualify as a game or a race? Allow me to tell you.

There are always people on the moving sidewalks. They are never completely empty. When people are stepping onto the sidewalk as I walk past the entrance, I use this area as the starting line. I make it a goal to walk fast enough, and dodge child and stroller obstacles so that I can beat my unknowing competitor to the end of the side walk. Sometimes when people are walking slowly and I feel like beating them to my finish line is no great accomplishment, I change the rules. Instead of racing one single stranger, I make a goal to pass as many people as possible on the moving sidewalk. Today for example I was able to pass 10 lazy strangers. Happy Birthday victory to me.

I will write more later about the friends that I made on the airplane today, but I am about to board the plane to Lynchburg!
Cheers!