SAA: Ep. #60: Attracting Strangers and the Just Plain Strange

I don’t play poker, which is probably a good thing, because I’m pretty sure I don’t have a very good poker face (GET OUT OF MY HEAD LADY GAGA!).  I’ve got a neutral face, but unfortunately, my neutral face looks angry.  I think this is because when I’m thinking about stuff, I get really into it.  My brow gets all furrowy and my eyes get all intense, and innocent bystanders think I’m angry about something. 

No, no.  I’m not angry.  I guess it just hurts to think.

One time this guy I barely knew came up to me and accused me of being a horrible person because I didn’t smile enough for his taste.  He was being rude and was totally out of line, but I thought maybe there was something to what he said.  So I tried smiling more. 

And people thought I was a little creepy because I smiled all the time.

So I went back to my neutral/angry face.

Now, don’t think that I go around scowling all the time.  I smile.  I smile when things make me happy.  Things make me happy a lot.  It’s just that when I’m not thinking about being happy, I’m neutral. 

So I don’t really understand why strangers are often drawn to me.  Apparently, I don’t have one of those naturally welcoming appearances.  Yet, I’ve had several interesting experiences in which strangers, for some unknown reason, have sought me out.

When I was in college (the second time around), I was standing in the hallway outside of a classroom, waiting for the class before mine to let out.  This guy comes up and stands beside me.  I can see him looking at me, and I started wondering if he was “checking me out.”  I’m one of those people who is just never sure if a guy is interested or not. 

Turns out, he was checking me out, but not in the way I thought.  “Hi,” he said.  “You look like someone who’s good to talk to.  So, I just had lunch with this girl in the cafeteria.  We’ve had lunch every day this week.  I’m not sure if she’s interested, but I think I’m in love with her.”

When I saw him looking at me, he was checking me out to see if he wanted to trust me, a stranger, with something personal.  That’s not the only example I have, but it’s probably the most direct and bizarre.  There have been many times when people I barely know have just started dishing out personal issues.  I studied counseling in school, and all, and I’ve been told I’m a good listener.  I just don’t understand what it is about me that makes practical (and sometimes actual) strangers want to talk to me.

The example with the guy was strange, but it didn’t really freak me out too badly.  I mean, this guy was direct, but he was sane.  Apart from being a little lovesick, there wasn’t anything wrong with his mind.  Normal people have sought me out many times.  It’s odd, but okay. 

Then—there are the people with “the crazies.”  These are the people who come up to me in public and attempt to communicate with me in their crazy language.  I’m not sure what it is about me that attracts them, and I’m fairly sure I’ll never find out.  I mean, I can’t even understand them most the time.

The other day, I was in Walmart (one of the best places to meet people with the crazies), looking over the half-price Valentine’s jewelry, when crazy lady walks up.  She says something I don’t understand at all.  I kind of mumble something back.  She shows me the jewelry she’s looking at and says (I think), “Whasshu got there lookin’ at there?”  I (somewhat hesitantly) show her the jewelry I’m looking at.

She proceeds to go on a long monologue in Ebonics/Crazy-speak.  Now, I am not fluent in either language, but I think she was telling me about how her sister-in-law had recently died, and she wanted all her family members to wear pink jewelry.  Her daughter apparently sent her to Walmart to get pink jewelry, but she wasn’t her daughter’s personal slave.  I’m not sure if I understood the story or not.  The last thing she said, in a very angry voice, was, “See now, she not be gettin’ nothin’ jewels from me.  See?  See?!  She done be gettin’ for herselves, see!”

I nodded.  Crazy lady stormed away, sans jewelry, pink or otherwise.  I was left to ponder why she felt the need to tell me about her dead sister-in-law.  Or was it her hamster?  Was it the hamster that was pink?  I really couldn’t understand.  I hope that I was able to be a listening ear for her, though.  I’m sure that even the crazies occasionally need to vent to someone besides their imaginary friends.

I went home and related this story to my roommate, who wisely said, “That woman might have been wearing a blue tooth.  She might have been talking to someone on the phone.”

I pondered this for a few minutes, and realized that the crazy lady might have been an actual sane person (with atrocious grammar).  If that was the case, then she might have been wondering why I kept showing her my jewelry and mumbling, “Uh huh.  That’s nice.  I’m sorry to hear that.  Uh huh.”  She might have even thought that I was the crazy one.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll probably say it again.  Talking to voices in your head used to just mean that you were crazy.  Now, talking to voices in your head (via blue tooth) means that you’re successful.  It’s really hard to tell the difference.

Hmm.

I’m just going to keep working on my poker face, po-po-poker face.

Poker?!  I don’t even know her!

Sorry, I felt that a good Psych reference might make up for all the Lady Gaga.

Embarrablast from the Past Ep.# 9: Weird Waiters

I have about six months combined experience working in a restaurant. For three months, I was a hostess at one of those franchised sit down family type restaurants that also has pie. I gained weight working there. I also worked for three months as a pizza delivery girl. I think I actually lost some weight with that job. Pie is better than pizza. *MUST RESIST URGE TO GO ON FIVE PARAGRAPH RANT ABOUT HOW I DON'T LIKE IT WHEN SOMEONE REFERS TO A "PIZZA PIE."*

So, yes, I have worked in the food service industry *just* long enough to learn that there are some weird characters who work in restaurants. Most of these people are kept behind the scenes--in the kitchen--cooking your food. Occasionally, however, I've been eating establishments where they keep their crazies right out in the open. I guess the management figures that it provides atmosphere...or something. At any rate, I think I've had more than my fair share of awkward experiences with restaurant employees.

My first example comes from my high school years. I went out to Shoney's with my family for my birthday. I think I was 16. Well, suddenly, the Shoney Bear pops up. You know...guy (girl?) in a big ol' cartoon bear costume. Smiling. Always smiling.

Shoney Bear comes up to my table and just stands there. My parents were at the salad bar or something. Shoney Bear just stands. Stupid big cartoon bear eyes. Smiling.

My parents came back, yet the Shoney Bear stood. Finally, I was like, "Do I know you?"

Shoney Bear, smiling, very slowly shakes his head "no."

"Can I help you with something?"

Shoney Bear smiles. And nods. And smiles.

Then Shoney Bear sits next to me in the booth and gives me a hug. Then Shoney Bear got up and went to harass someone else. Still smiling.

I had nightmares for weeks.

The second incident came from my later teenage years. I was in college at this point. I also had about the worst attitude in the world. Let me set the stage for you. It was the summer after my freshman year of college, where I had developed this ridiculous and completely unhealthy crush on this guy who just really didn't LIKE like me at all. I was still basking in the depths of despair, and my friend was like, "Oh come spend the weekend with me." So I did. And a few other friends came, too. In that weekend, my friend started dating someone. Two others who were there started dating. The other guy who was there was in a relationship and I wasn't interested anyway.

So we went to a restaurant (sidenote: does anyone find the word "restaurant" ridiculously awkward to spell??) and I was in a mood. So the waiter comes up and seats all of us. There were six of us. Two couples, me and this other guy. The waiter's name was Greg. I remember that vividly, because as the evening progressed, so did my intense hatred of Greg.

First, he just assumed all of us were dating each other somehow, which really was a pretty fair assumption. When I explained that I would be paying for my food separately, that's when he began being a phenomenal jerk. He started making this big show of how everyone else was dating and I wasn't. Did he think he was being cute? Idk. I just thought he was being rude. And I still think that.

Well, eventually everyone ordered dessert. One couple ordered a dessert to share. The other couple ordered a dessert to share. The guy ordered a dessert just for himself. I didn't want anything, so I didn't order anything. When Greg brought out the desserts, each of them had two spoons. He set them all down on the table, then jerks one of the spoons out of one of the desserts, looked right at me and said, "Oops! We won't be needing THAT one!"

Then, when he brought everyone their checks, he came over to me and said, "Oh, it's all right." And he put his arm around me and rubbed my shoulder. I don't know how I refrained from punching him in the face.

Greg did not get a tip. If you know me, then you know that's pretty serious.

The last example happened about a year ago. I went to a restaurant with one of my friends. The waiter comes up to our table and sits down next to me in the booth. "Hi, my name is "Not Greg" and I'll be your server today. Our specials are...."

I just glared at him. Really? In what universe is it okay for a waiter to just come and casually sit down next to someone they don't know? "Not Greg" eventually stopped telling us about the specials long enough to pay attention to my reaction.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he asked.

I nodded. "Um, yes."

He stood up, did not apologize, and asked us what we wanted to drink. Then later, when he came back with our orders, he made this big deal about making ME sound like a jerk because I wouldn't let him sit next to me while taking my order.

He did get a tip...a minimal one...I mean, after all, he wasn't Greg.

I have probably had other weird restaurant employee experiences, but those are the big ones. A few months ago, I'm pretty sure I had Harry Potter for a waiter, but he wouldn't admit to anything.