hey there, future manfriend.
i think it’s important to tell you now, that my life is absurd. before you buy into all of my nonsense like you are haphazardly ordering a hand-blender on amazon, thinking you will make blended soups alllllll the time (or something), i should let you know this.
i am a weirdness attractor. it just seeks me out. it finds me wherever i am.
when it’s at the bookstore: i always ask mindlessly wandering folks whether they need help finding things and it ends up with a crotchety grandpa talking about his dojo master who knows how to kill someone without even touching them. and he only drinks hot water with soy milk with honey, as per his dojo master’s recommendation. and going up in the elevator with a customer interaction commonly goes as follows:
lady: you know what i don’t like about this place?
me: oh, what is that?
lady: you can’t take books to the toilet. ugh, it’s so frustrating.
i wear clifford heads. and “story time” is something i put on a to-do list at work. bear voices, giraffes that can’t dance, and snack time are common concerns of my day to day life.
whenever i pet a dog on the streets, their loyalty instantly switches to me (i’ve had multiple witnesses to this ridiculous phenomenon).
when it’s at school, it’s not unusual for me to be called “raggedy ann” by passersby. tourists at work assume i go to harvard and ask to take pictures with me (?!?!this has happened at least 3 times?!?!)
one time, i was trying to get a bike off of craigslist and went to meet up with the fellow who was selling it. we met up in a pretty public space, but knowing me i was fully ready to assume that this day might be the day that i get thrown into a sketchy, nondescript white van and taken off to become some drug lord’s wife (i’m a huge bushel of fun, aren’t i?) keeping this in mind, the guy (who was adorable and had a british accent and i secretly wanted him to ride tandem bikes with me into a sunset. i mean, huh?) tells me we have to go to his workplace, as that is where his bike is.
visions of being thrown into a potato sack and thrown into a van rushed through my head as i willingly followed him to my fate. he hands me an i.d. as we walk through the “peter pan: the musical” tents that were taking over downtown boston. i confusedly ask him what he does. “oh, i am john darling”, he says casually as i writhe and try not to foam at the mouth with overwhelming joy. just a normal morning for me, future man friend. almost buying a bike off of john darling is somehow my normal.
being hugged by homeless women as my date approached me one night (true story, he was parking his bike, and a homeless woman began hugging me out of the blue as he walked up to me. it was awesome) is commonplace.
like a moth to a light, the weirdness just launches itself on to me. and i’m not interested in shaking it off. and i hope you aren’t either. to me, weirdness is the cheese sauce of life. and i’m fully prepared (with lactaid pills) to enjoy it with you.