I wasted about ten hours this week drawing an unusable story. It was going to be a story about whether or not the moon landing was a conspiracy. It was pretty funny too. I got a model kit for the moon lander at an estate sale or thrift store ( can’t really remember which as I pick up useless old crap at these places all the time) and decided I would build it and use it for reference for a moon landing story. The model kit had three astronauts so that is how many I put in the story. Only two men landed on the moon at a time. THAT…blows.
I’m trying to rationalize some way that this story still works. I have three options.
1- not use the story
2-erease one of them. Which would make the story not as funny. Just trust me, I do this for a living.
3- use it anyway. There are a zillion stories out there with inaccuracies, people just accept them and enjoy the story for what it is. I am NOT one of those people. I am the guy who yells at the T.V. screen during planet of the apes that apes and chimpanzees are two different animals from two different threads of evolution. So using this would really eat at me. Also it’s not a little flaw. It is a BIG flaw.
Time is the tyrant, I may have to use it. In any case I had no time for a blog, but the model kit reminded me of this blog from a few years back…probably the last time I walked to the thrift store instead of driving.
“All I wanted was a pepsi”
It’s been warm enough to just walk around and see the sun lately so i decided to wander over to the thrift store. The local thrift store is great it’s got everything everyone else i know is looking for. every time i go there i leave with stuff for other people and nothing for myself…doesn’t anyone donate used drafting tools to these places?!
anyway I’m walking there and i see about oh…15 yards ahead of me some kid (7 or 8 years old) walking like a kid – no particular hurry. He’s got a backpack on and is veering from one site of the sideway to the other, kicking at snow, probably has the theme from sponge bob in his head. my brain does the distance/speed math and i realize one of those semi awkward moments is approaching were i have to pass someone on the sidewalk. when your walking just a little faster it’s always strange because it’s almost not worth passing them up and you do it at such a slow pace that you feel like a dope for saying “excuse me” and passing them a .05 miles an hour. it basically takes about a solid 7 seconds from the point you say “excuse me” to the point were you no longer feel their breath on your neck. it goes like this, you’re right behind them “excuseme ” -one Mississippi two Mississippi- your are shoulder to shoulder – three Mississippi four Mississippi- You’re slightly pulling away five mississipi six mississipi – end of awkwardness. but it’s that or slow down the pace of you’re walking which actually takes concentration and drives me insane. you end up walking like old people drive, get up to normal speed – slow down, get up to normal speed -slow down. it’s hard to walk slower than normal and yet at a steady pace. so i just opt for the awkward seven seconds.
as i get about 5 yards behind him the kid stops day dreaming looks back, sees me, gets nervous and picks up speed. He matches my speed to stay 5 yards ahead of me. but the since he’s a kid, his little legs are speed walking to keep ahead of me at my normal pace. to add to the absurdity he keeps looking back to see if i’m still there. I am, and this makes him more nervous and this little dance goes on for about two blocks. two blocks of cars passing by seeing this kid speed walking away from a strange man who is following him. eventually his 8 year old brain sees a shiny piece of garbage on the road looks down, stumbles and ends up face down in some slush. at this point he remembers he was trying to escape me, looks up at me and screams. I suppose you’re wondering if anyone was around to see this. of course there was. this happened right outside a walgreens and oh…about 6-10 people looked over to see the kid on the ground in a trembling defensive position with me looking down at him.
how am i dressed you ask? like a perpetrator. Worn out leather biker jacket, jump boots, torn jeans, black knit cap. It couldn’t have been anymore clear i was not with this kid if i my penis was hanging out. as my subconscious gives me a snapshot of myself from outside of my body – man looking back at the crowd like a deer in headlights as an 8 years old scrambles to his feet and runs away.- i think back to a time when i had a normal life. I worked in a garage, had normal hobbies, enjoyed watching other peoples cartoons and reading other people comic books. but then i decided to write for a living. and it’s as though …i was a wrestler in a tag team match simply on the OUTSIDE of the ring and as soon i made that decision to express myself creatively for cash…i got tagged in and life started clothes lining me and hitting me with folding chairs. the folding chairs in this analogy would be ridiculous situations like this. When i had a normal job i didn’t have many days where i would have to fear being pepper sprayed by a confused good Samaritan. Of course now also i have no co-workers to vouch that i was just on my lunch break, no piers that could act as character witnesses, on the contrary a quick look over the body of my work or an internet search would no doubt lead someone to believe that they did the right thing by pepper spraying me.
so…the crowd saw a strange looking guy standing over a frightened child who got up and ran away…and then they saw the strange man look back at them blankly and then run in the other direction. It’s times like this i’m thankful for “big brother”. at least after i fled, a review of the tapes from the parking lot security camera would show i never laid a glove on the kid. of course i would probably appear that i was following him. running away probably didn’t help my case, but i’ve been pepper sprayed before and lemme tell you…it fuckin hurts. So…i guess i won’t go past that store for awhile. no doubt this weeks special is old drafting tools.