I am a dork. Yes, a dork. A dweeb! A nerd! A geek. An uncool, goody-two shoes at times. It's quite pathetic.. and embarrassing. But here's the kicker: upon first glance, a lot of people seem to assume that this is not the case! They see my crazy hair and assume that I'm some sort of a rebel, or look at my tattoos and think I'm some sort of future-less punk or hardened criminal. WRONG! I dye my hair crazy colors because I think it's pretty, and to me tattoos are just a form of personal, permanent art.
The sad truth is, I'm no bad-ass... however much I might wish I was. Don't believe me? You make me giggle. Read on!
- Quite a while ago, I'd say at least 5 or 6 years, I was eating lunch at Arby's with my sister. We were sitting in one of the old, beat up booths with the peeling plastic lacquer, enjoying our roast beef sandwiches. The Raton Arby's is always busy around noon, packed with travelers who have pulled off I-25, ready for some food and a break from the tedium of cows and their yellow-grass pastures. I was munching on a curly-fry when a boy walked up to our table. He had on a new-looking sweatshirt, with the hood pulled up and his hands shoved deep in the pockets. He rocked back on his heels, looking uncomfortable. I was uncomfortable too- there were the two of us seated at the booth, but he was only looking at me.
"Hey, sup?" he mumbled.
"Um, hiiiii...?" I offered.
"You from around here?" he asked, jerking his head towards the window.
"Yep."
His voice lowered. "You know where I could get some herb?" His eyes darted nervously around the restaurant, then back to me.
"Pardon?" was all I could come up with. Herb? Herbs? What an odd request! What did I look like, some kind of gardener? Why look for herbs in Raton? What kind of herbs did he need? Basil? Mint? Catnip? I did a quick mental evaluation of all the establishments that might possibly sell herbs, and could only think of the grocery store. But it's Raton! We're a small town! Our selection would no doubt be rather limited.
I was about to tell him so when my sister saved me from complete and utter humiliation.
"No," she told the guy kindly, but firmly. "We don't know where you can get any."
He gave a shrug of his shoulders and muttered, "thanks", and walked away.
I looked at her, surprised and totally puzzled at what had just transpired. She rolled her eyes at me.
"WEED, Sarah!" she hissed. "He wanted to buy some weed!" She collapsed into giggles. I think I turned roughly the shade of my curly fry, I was so embarrassed. - The first time I got pulled over by the police, it was nighttime and I was driving a friend home. The lights went on and I about had a heart attack. I can't explain it, but I have always had this AWFUL, irrational fear of police. I seriously wonder if I was a criminal in another life.
Anyway, the lights went on and I pulled into kind of an alley, to get out of the way of traffic. I pulled into the small street, paused, then drove a little further. The cop behind me almost had a conniption! I think he thought I was gonna make a run for it or something. Once I had parked, he rushed over to the driver's side window of my car and demanded angrily, "Why did you keep driving?"
"Ohh, I'm so sorry, sir!" I blubbered hysterically. "I didn't know if you had enough room to pull in behind me!"
Afterwards (I got a warning for having one of my licence plate lights out), I told my sister about it. "Oh my god," she laughed, "Sarah, most people would be pissed off and wouldn't care if the police had room!"
What can I say? I am a kind and courteous driver. - I pretty much hate the taste of beer. I might have anyway, but I think it might have had something to do with a traumatic moment from my past:
A very, very long time ago, I was sitting on my Mom's lap at the kitchen table. I was drinking an ice-cold glass of milk, and my mom was drinking an ice-cold beer. You can probably see where this is going. Somehow, I took a humongous swig from the wrong one! I just remember being absolutely disgusted, and gagging and retching and shuddering uncontrollably as my body reacted to the repulsive liquid.
All these years later, I do like drinking some alcohol... vodka is great and Red's Apple Ale is pretty awesome, but just plain beer? Nope! No, no, no. - I have never been arrested. Okay, let's be honest. I have never even been close to being arrested! I am that law-abiding! I am that afraid of conflict! I am that afraid of police! I've ridden in a police car once in my life, and that was when I was admitted to the Parkview Child/Adolescent Mental Health Facility. For my safety and others, I guess. It was pretty weird.
- If you frequently read my blogs, you'll know that I recently admitted to being an atheist, but I will tell you that for about a year of my much earlier life, I was the Blasphemy Police! It was because my 3rd grade teacher was married to a pastor, and anytime one of her students used God's name in vain, she cracked down hard. I picked up the habit! It was strengthened when I fell in love with "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade" and Indiana Jones' father (Sean Connery) slaps him for blasphemy. Epic.
If you're my Facebook friend, you'll know that I've decided to do weekly blogs (Wordsday Thursday!) to get me in the habit of writing more. Please keep reading!
Dorkily yours,
Sarah
No comments:
Post a Comment