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.

May the new year bring me Tiger Woods and a frightened mailman

Although traditionally my new years resolutions are set in January and broken by February; i have decided to change things up this year. after working in college admissions for almost two years, I feel that my year changes at the end of April. May 1st is the national deadline for students to let colleges and universities know of where they will be going to school in the fall semester and although we will still be putting the final touches of our incoming class, today is the magical turning point for counselors to start recruiting high school juniors. Happy new year.

In the spirit of a new year, I have decided to create a list of things that I would like to accomplish by May 1st of next year. A few of them are serious, but most are intended to fun and I am hoping they will trigger and inspire some quality awkward posts throughout the year.

Here is the list. Feel free to make suggestions.

1.) have some type of correspondence with a famous person. "Fame" will be defined at my digression. If Barack Obama and Tiger Woods are unavailable, I will settle for a smaller scale celebrity such as the owner of Rivermont Pizza Company or Bolton Valley Ski Resort's Instructor of the Year, who happens to be my own father.

2.) wear an ugly Christmas sweater somewhere fancy, in July.

3.) Prostitute Epic Tales Of. A Professional Freakshow in Heels and earn no less than 100 followers. I may need help with this one. Advice is appreciated, your actual fellowship is appreciated more.

4.) sing karaoke with an imperfect stranger, perferably over the age of sixty.

5.) win some sort of contest. I would prefer for this said contest to not require me to wear a wet tshirt like uniform, but again, desperate times call for sluts in white tshirts sometimes.

6.) Convince someone that I am royalty in another country. I will gladly grant myself double Points if I either a. Run into real royalty at a grocery store or while pumping gas. B. Run into some one else pretending to be royalty. ( six yearolds wearing burger king crowns are not worthy of double points,unless of course they are actually the king of burgers.)

7. Fabricate one of those " copy and paste this into your Facebook status if you..." campaigns and try to make it the grossest STD of internet fads. Ideally I would like it to be more popular than pogs were on the richmond elementary school playground in the early 90's but I will settle for outcooling the kitten with the hiccups on youtube. I would be open to suggestions with this task. " June is national _______ month. Copy and paste this into your status if you or your friend, family, mailman, drug dealer, or on the side lover have been a victim of..... A brady bunch marathon...Alien abduction.....explosive dierhia ( gross..I veto this one right now.)..... You get the idea.

8.) Scare the living day lights out of the mailman. My new house has one of those old school slots in the door so that the mailman can push my birthday cards from grammie and Netflix DVDs onto the welcome rug in my entry way. One of these days I am going to be waiting by the door so that as the mailman slips my water bill through the slot, I will grab it from his hands and maybe make some sort of growling noise, not unlike a wolf with rabies.

9.) Save my phone number into. A stranger's phone as "God" or " Dr. Quinn Medicine woman" and then text them everyday.

10.) Create and summit a recipe to the pilsbury bake off. Double points will be granted if I make it on tv.

11.) transform myself into a domestic goddess. I will consider this mission a success when I successfully:
A. Receive one or more compliments on the perfect iron job of my shirt. I will also try ironing wearing heels and maybe an apron. That seems domestic like
B. Learn to mop the floor without leaving it grosser than when I started
C. stop pretending that doing laundry and febreeze are synonyms.

12.) do something extreme such as skydiving, piercing something strange, or jaywalking.

Cheers and cheerios

- professional freakshow