did U GUYS KNOW, that the way stores get the balloons off of the ceiling is with ANOTHER balloon, w tape on the top??? and they just dont cut the string so it’s like super long and u gotta aim it right n reel it in. i just found that out today when i DID IT and it’s been the best working day of my life i had a blast blowing up balloons and fetching some off the ceiling. i had so much power? and NO ONE ELSE in my department likes that job so now it’s MY job when need be
omg so I work at a museum and one of our buildings has a) very high ceilings and b) a bizarrely sensitive alarm system that will go off if anything touches the ceiling. Because of this, helium balloons are considered public enemy #1 and are strictly forbidden from entering the museum. But just in case an illicit balloon is successfully smuggled in, the museum has acquired a fucking b.b. gun for the express purpose of shooting down rogue balloons.
Tonight I may have had an encounter with the smoothest human being on earth.
As many of you know I work as an actor in a haunted house. This is a fun job for many reasons, but witnessing people’s reactions to being scared is by far the best. I’m a scare window actor, which means I hide behind a section of the wall that is held up by a latch that I can lift and drop away suddenly, scaring people with both my scream, and the loud sound my window makes upon being dropped. I have a small hole drilled in the wall to look through to see people passing.
The smoothest human being on the planet wore a white hoodie. He came in a group with three other friends. I did not expect to scare him much. After a while you can kind of gauge just by what you can glimpse from your peephole whether someone will be a good scare or not. Men in their 20’s in a mixed group of friends typically do not get scared easily. But this guy was wearing white in my blacklight-equipped hallway, so he had made himself an easy target and I had to take advantage.
I dropped my window precisely when he was in front of it.
He leapt back toward the wall on the other side of my narrow hallway and his drew back his arm like he meant to punch me.
“This is it.” I thought. “I’m finally going to be socked in the face for scaring someone.”
But I was wrong.
His arm kept curling back behind his head. Smoothly, flawlessly, effortlessly he tucked his hand behind his head, leaned back on the wall opposite me, and propped a foot up on the plywood frame of my open window, reclining with ease.
“So, come here often?” He asked.
All of this occurred within the span of a second. Maybe two.
I was shook. I was stunned. I almost broke character.
I shrugged. “Only on the weekends.” I replied with my character voice. His group laughed. He double finger gunned me and walked on.
I will never forget him.
I cannot stress enough how perfect his transition from his fear reaction to his playboy act was. It flowed so naturally.
I just saw two babies encounter each other in public while being carried by their respective moms and they both waved at each other like when the bus driver sees another bus. Good on you, babies, for recognizing that you are a baby and showing solidarity with other babies
A really harrowed-looking man who was probably in his 60s came into the shop today. He was wearing a gold-colored tie that kept sliding down the side of his neck because it was tied very poorly, and a rumpled light blue dress shirt. I did not see his legs or shoes. Part-time cashiers are sometimes just not afforded the luxury.
We said hello to each other as I scanned his items (diet coke and a nature valley granola bar- $2.69), me sounding more interested than usual just because he sounded so out-of breath and very engaged in his purchase. Also maybe because I could not see his shoes.
“How’s your life going?” He suddenly asked, swiping his card, not casually but almost pleadingly curious.
“Uhm, all right I s’pose” I said, too startled to think of a more cheery lie.
He nodded somberly. “Me too… I guess.” He paused and looked at me for a minute and then just said “it’s a Monday, ya know.”
“Mondays are like this sometimes” I supplied, feeling like we were having a really weird conversation hidden under the one that was actually taking place.
And then he left. I forgot to look at his shoes.
PART II
Honestly I had no idea that I would ever have the privilege of writing a sequel to this post. I considered it an odd moment, an interaction that changed me in a way, but a fleeting one. I automatically assumed our paths would never cross again, there was such a finality to that window of time on Monday August 22nd of 2016. And yet.
He returned.
I didn’t truly notice him come in, glancing up from whatever menial and already forgotten task I was busy with, but not registering who it was or why he seemed to put out an aura of familiarity. It had been weeks and I haven’t even caught a glimpse of him; the memory of Monday August 22nd of 2016 had faded like a dream. But lo he appeared before me, dressed in exactly the same fashion that made him look like he had just crawled out of carwash (albeit with a pink shirt and purple tie this go-around.)
His face lit up when he saw me, again holding a diet coke and a nature valley granola bar. ‘How is your day going?’ He asked earnestly.
‘Pretty well.’ I said, professionally containing myself, “how are you?”
“I’m good, I’m good” he said, sounding more cheerful than before but just as harried. When I handed him back his change and items and he looked like he was going to cry.
“Thank you” he whispered with a look of reverence I have only seen on the faces of ancient church members receiving the eucharist.
“It’s no trouble,” I promised, trying not to look perplexed.
He bowed (LITERALLY BOWED) and then made a hurried exit stage left, reminiscent of Lear just before the second act, halfway into madness.
A Lear I had again forgotten to note the footwear of.
PART. 3.
Okay I’m not even bothering with the pretentious Hemingway style for this one; I’m still reeling over the fact that he came back after four months AND on a Friday instead of a Monday no less.
Notes:
He was wearing literally the exact same shirt and tie he had on from part one, only with an orange sweater and fancy jacket over the ensemble to indicate that it was winter
He bought Lay’s sour cream and onion potato chips this time instead of his standard granola bar, but the diet coke was as usual
He told me that he always felt guilty for buying snack food but ‘you have to do what you have to do’
He then smiled sadly at me and said ‘enjoy your weekend… If you can.’
I sat in stunned, unblinking silence for about six minutes until a customer came up and looked me over worriedly
Who is this man
WHY DO I KEEP FORGETTING TO LOOK AT HIS SHOES
Part Four
First thing’s first,
Probably about two years of wear on them but otherwise well cared for. Socks were white, which I was only able to notice because this human being has zero clothes that fit and his pant cuffs were hovering about 3 inches away from his shoes. I keep thinking his outfits can’t possibly get any better, but this one takes the cake:
Crumpled white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, gigantic scarf that looked as though it were made out of mouldy carpet, neon orange striped tie, and a matching neon orange plastic digital watch that probably came out of a box of honeycombs back in 1988.
He did not grace me with his odd conversational charm today, but I received something better. A clue.
Today he was buying a red notebook and three ballpoint pens instead of snacks (which was questionable but this is a Thursday we’re talking about; the day that falls on the chaotic spectrum and which I am known for my overzealous distrust of), and when he pulled out his luxury black Mastercard to pay for his items he said eight words which shook me to my very core.
“I do get a staff discount on these.”
This has never come up before because discount plans don’t apply to food items. I have no need to ask the identity of a man buying a granola bar and a diet coke. But now.
I didn’t speak as I handed him his receipt, just nodded courteously. Only staff members know about the specific discount so I had no real need to ask for an ID for proof, and I was cursing my mistake in not asking for it anyway.
I must find this man. I have been here for three years and yet have only seen him within the confines of the store at odd intervals. I’ve never even seen him step into the store, or leave (another customer is somehow always in line behind him and demanding my attention.) I spent half an hour going through the college’s entire staff directory this afternoon… and may have found something. I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, I am not yet certain and will have to gather a few more items of information, but for the first time I can promise a part to follow. Perhaps, an ending.
Cinq
Not an ending of any sort, but a very brief update from the field. My work schedule has changed since January and I was honestly beginning to wonder if I wouldn’t see the man again until the fall, as it’s been more than two months now. He startled me quite a bit when he literally blew in as if by a gust of wind right as my shift was ending.
He was in quite a hurry and only bought a diet coke ($1.50) before blustering(?) off, giving me no chance to run an investigation or perception check, but if fashion checks were a thing…
Please imagine, if you will, a man wearing a yellow polka-dot tie that was not even tied, an orange scarf, the watch mentioned in my previous entry, khakis, a bright periwinkle shirt… and an impeccably matching woolen periwinkle cape. He was also carrying a very large black satchel with tartan lining, every single pocket of which was unzipped.
He looked like a hedge wizard.
I want answers.
6.
I found him.
Masters in theology from Harvard
Distinguished professor of philosophy
God-tier identification photo; I cannot believe that I have not been hallucinating this man for the past 12 months and 41 days.
Hi I just got back from the BEST eclipse party with the kids at Durango Elementary, my faith in the future is restored.
Someone made “eclipse cookies” which are sable cookies with a dark center and a pale crescent or corona, good job PTA Mom Jennifer
Kids were SO HYPE for the eclipse, and were thrilled to explain it over and over to me
Great grasp of orbital physics for a bunch of 5-10 year olds
Someone’s dad brought in a theremin?
The whole school is space-themed this week.
I watched a 4th-grader give a presentation on abiogenesis and how different planets may have things like nitrogen-beased lifeforms and holy fuck that was rally cool???
I think it;s the theremin-dad’s kid.
Bless the small child trying to hold his glasses up to the iguana so he could see it too.
Also bless all the teachers in FMA/Little Shop of Horrors/Avatar shirts.
Kids had a great time , Adults had a good time, everyone had a great time.
Like really, I believe in the post-millenials . They can make Starfleet Happen.
I’m at the doctor office and this baby keeps yelling “I want donow” (mcdonalds) and the big brother (I assume) said “all the mcdonalds burnt down, there’s no more mcdonalds”
My roommate and I are really sick and we look like shit, but we were hungry so we ordered pizza. But we didn’t want anyone to see us, so we asked them over the phone if we can leave the money on the door and they can just drop off the pizza.
The guy said sure.
So we decided to leave a nice little note
and we hung it above the door bell. I hope they like it!
“you’re an art model does that mean you’re NAKED?” “yeah” “whoa….those lucky artists ;)”
…buddy.
idk who started the idea that life drawing classes have anything sexy going on like. there’s at least ten people in the room and we’re all tired and covered in charcoal.
the dude in front who’s staring at my boobs has been trying to get the shading right for 10 minutes. he’s almost out of paint. he is crying.
The ice burg being frozen solid because there are NEVER ENOUGH SPACE HEATERS.
I was an artist’s model in uni since it paid better than any other student work position. Did a life drawing class one semester, despite it being an unheated old building in the winter evenings, because the instructor was a decent fellow who always had extra space heaters. So there I am one evening, exhausted from my team’s afternoon practice, but I’m in a comfortable position on a padded stool, ready to hold the position for like fifteen minutes. Space heaters all around me, spotlights on me to get shadows in interesting places.
Beyond the red glow of the heaters and the hot-white of the spotlights, the massive drafty room is dark and quiet, broken only by the instructor’s whispers and the scratch of charcoal on paper. Me, I’m just dozing, ‘cause my ancient dorm was heated with creaky old steampipes that never really got warm, and with the new extra-powered space heater alongside the others, that night was the warmest I’d been in a month. I dozed, basking in the glorious warmth.
And then I fell asleep.
And then I fell off the stool.
I woke up rather abruptly on the cold wooden platform, and looked up to see an entire ring of terrified and worried faces around me. Everyone had their hands up, ready to help me up, except no one had touched me. Naked chick laid out face-down on the floor, and all the men and women were suddenly acutely aware they couldn’t just grab a half-asleep dazed naked chick.
Fortunately someone had the bright idea to tear the sheet down from the backdrop, lay it over me as a wrap, and then everyone was quick to help me up.
After that, the instructor and students got used to taking turns talking to me, just to make sure I wasn’t dozing off. Which was weird, at first, because I’d done two semesters just being a silent prop, and now I was interacting. It gave the class a vibe completely unlike any other I’d modeled for, and it ended up one of my favorite modeling experiences.
postscript: months later, walking on campus with someone who’d eventually become my spouse, we passed some guys on the main path. One of them stopped, peered at me, and then said hello, excitedly, saying, “sorry, I didn’t recognize you, I’ve never seen you with your clothes on!”
