What Really Grinds My Gears

You know what REALLY grinds my gears?

Littering.

And Holy Mother of Jesus people do it around here a lot. I didn't notice it at first because you almost never see someone litter, you just see the repercussion of it along the side of the road. The littering pandemic in Eufaula was brought to my attention about 2 weeks ago. It was a Friday and I had just turned off the main Highway and was heading to pick up Nick for lunch. I noticed a crew of about 4 guys, in those horrid Oklahoma State (boooo) colored vests, picking up trash along the side of the road. When I came back after lunch they had finished picking up the trash and were mowing the grass along the side of the road. I noticed how nice the grass looked, but I couldn't quite put my finger on why I thought it looked so good. As soon as we turned down that road on Monday I figured it out. There was trash EVERYWHERE. It was like the crew hadn't even been there, the sheer amount of trash that had accumulated over the weekend was astounding. There were beer cans, soda bottles, fast food bags and even full bags of trash. Ever since then, every time I drive down that mile and a half stretch of road I am just blown away by the amount of trash that people are throwing out of their car, and it really, really grinds me gears. 

Yesterday I witnessed a blatant act of littering for the first time. I had just dropped Nick off at work and the guy in front of me threw a coffee cup out his window. Can you guess what kind of vehicle he was driving? A Barbour County Garbage Truck. Yep, the garbage man was littering. If he hadn't turned off the road I was going to pull up next to him at the light, look him straight in the eye, point at him, mouth the words "you suck" and then give him the thumbs down. It wasn't a great plan, and it would probably just either confuse the garbage man, or make him laugh. But, that started me thinking about what I would actually do if I saw someone littering again. A simple thumbs down or even the middle finger probably wouldn't get the message through to them, so I had to come up with something a little more creative. And this is what I came up with...

The next time I see someone blatantly littering I am going to take note of their car and license plate number, pull over, pick up their trash, hunt down their car and throw the trash on top of their car (if they leave their windows down then you can bet your ass I'm throwing it inside their car). I will also be leaving a note that say " Littering: Disgusting, isn't it?".

It's a perfect plan because

A. It's not illegal (I'm just a concerned citizen returning an item that I saw that person drop)

B. The person littering will most likely NEVER forget the message.

C. They will tell everyone they know what happened and soon the entire community will be scared to litter because they don't want a fried chicken bucket to be thrown in their front seat. 

I've already told Nick about this plan and he was only slightly amused, and mostly horrified that I might will go through with this, if given the opportunity. He said he's not sure what is more creepy about my plan, having trash you threw out of your window 3 miles down the road show up on your hood at the Piggly Wiggly parking lot, or the psychotic note that you would find stuck to your windshield. It's probably both. 

Memo to Heather:

Dear Heather,

In the future, I would appreciate it if you would use some common sense discretion when faxing my shot history for the Gardasil Immunization to my work office. For example, "Claire's Gardasil Shot History" is probably a more appropriate title for the cover letter than "Claire's HPV Report".

Especially when it is my manager who is receiving the fax. 

Thanks,

Claire

Murphy's Law

"Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong."

My first experience with Murphy's Law happened about 3 years ago. I was at a friend's lake house for the 4th of July. Now this was not one of those lake houses that your rich friend takes you to and you think "Holy hell this house costs more than my real house". This was an 800 sq. foot cabin on the lake with no shower, no television and no A/C. So what's a group of college aged, rambunctious kids to do? Well, we had a plastic baseball bat, no ball, and the yard was full of softball-sized pieces of tree bark, so naturally we started playing "Barkball". The concept was simple, someone would pitch a piece of bark and the batter would try to hit the tree bark as far into the yard as possible. Sounds like a great idea, right? 

We all take turns being the batter and the pitcher and eventually it's my turn to pitch. Keep in mind this game has been played flawlessly for the past hour. If it were a construction site there would be a large sign at the front that said "This site has been accident free for 1 hour". *Golf claps* I take my place in the yard to pitch and Kevin* steps up to bat. Kevin is a "sturdy:, but seemingly coordinated man, and I jokingly tell him "You better not hit me!". He assures me that he is not only great at "Barkball", but he is even better after that last Coors Light. I gently lob him a cantaloupe sized piece of bark which he immediately sends hurtling towards my right knee-cap at about 45 miles per hour. Next thing I know I'm on the ground with a bloody knee and Kevin is leaning over me saying "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I knew that was going to happen!"

Really Kevin?? You knew this would happen? Then why the hell did you do it?!?

If you're like Kevin and refuse to take responsibilities for accidents that you directly caused, then Murphy's Law is your solution.  How do you think Dick Cheney got away with his little Quail Hunting Incident?

*Names may have been changed because author can not remember the person's real name. 

So my most recent run-in with Murphy's Law happened last week. I need to preface this story by mentioning that I recently got a job. Now, it's no "resume booster", but it is a step above leaving a large blank space on my resume. Apparently, employers don't look too highly on a potential job candidate who has little to no work experience followed by a large period of unemployment. Snobs. 

My first day was last Thursday and it went pretty smoothly, my second day...not so smooth. As we were pulling into Nick's work I heard a strange flapping noise so I asked Nick to look at my tires when he got out. 

Me: "How do they look Honey??"

Nick: "Pretty good, except for this back one, I think you should go put some air in it."

I step out of the car to inspect the tire that Nick has implied is not flat and "just needs some air". The tire is flat, F-L-A-T. To give Nick some credit, it was early in the morning, he hadn't had his coffee yet and the tire did in fact "need some air". 

It also needed to not have a 5 inch gash in it (*note* gash in above picture). If I had of gotten this flat tire during my many weeks of unemployment it would have been no problem, just put on the donut and then I would have had all the time in the world to get it fixed. Since it was Friday, I even could have just waited until we were back in Columbus and gotten it fixed over the weekend. Could have...if we weren't planning to drive to Atlanta to fly to Dallas for the Tx vs. OU Red River Shootout that afternoon. 

So, as I'm sitting in the parking lot waiting for AAA to come save the day, I have to call my boss and tell her that I am going to be significantly late for my second day of work. I then have to take my car to "Jac's Auto and Tire Repair" since Eufaula does not have a National Tire and Battery (big shock there). The owner informed me that my tire cannot be salvaged and I need to get a new one, he also believes that my other rear tire is about to do the same thing and he recommended that I replace it. Since I have to drive to Atlanta and would prefer to not have my tire blow out while I'm driving 80 m.p.h on I-185, thus causing us to miss our flight and possibly our chance to see Texas beat the hell outta OU, I agreed to let him replace both tires.  Now there's a very likely chance that my tire would have been fine and this guy was just trying to get me to buy another tire from him, but with the way my luck was going that day I didn't want to take any chances. I decided to come back on my lunch break since I was already an hour late for work. I returned around 11 and the mechanic starts working on my car while I wait inside the office. I made small talk with the friendly secretary and eventually we were joined by another mechanic who was on his lunch break. He started making small talk with me also...

Mechanic: "Do you play golf?"

Me: "No, I've never tried. Do you?"

Mechanic: "Yea, I've been to a few courses around here blah, blah, blah"

Me: "Oh that's cool..."

*Silence*

Mechanic: "So where are you from?"

Me: "I just moved here from Austin."

*Silence*

Mechanic: "So...are you going to go to Eufaula High?"

*SILENCE*

I looked over at the secretary who is giving the mechanic a "you're an idiot" look, and then I looked back at the mechanic who just shrugged his shoulders, laughed and said, "what?" 

After closing my gaping mouth I informed the bright mechanic that I'm 22 years old and that I just graduated from the University of Texas. He apologized and luckily my car was ready just a few minutes later. As I drove away with my brand new tires I prayed that this streak of bad luck and poorly timed karmic events were geographically limited to Eufaula, AL and would not follow me to Dallas, TX. 24 hours later I was cheering the Longhorns to victory at a bar in Dallas with a dozen of my closest friends, and I knew the streak was broken. 

Overheard in Eufaula

Two old ladies in the bathroom

Granny #1: "...and then after that she is going to bring out some of her Santa Claus dolls for us to look at. She invited you to come doesn't that sound like fun?!?!?"

Granny #2: "Oh yes! Do you think I look alright?" 

*Granny Numero Dos is wearing a festive Halloween "holiday" sweater*

Granny #1: "Oh of course, you will be the cutest one there!"

Granny #2: "Are you sure?"

Granny #1: "Yes, you will definitely be the cutest one there, it's going to be so much fun! Don't you think it's going to be fun!"

Granny #2: "Yes, I just can't wait!"

I'm not sure what the strangest thing about this conversation was...

• The fact that the Granny dressed in a themed sweater is going to be the best dressed at this event.
• The fact that looking at someone's doll collection is considered a "fun night out".

or

•  The fact that peole are already pulling out Christmas decorations...in October!
  

The Laundromat

Since the wonderful apartment complex that I live in doesn't provide a washer and/or dryer so I am forced to visit The Laundromat once a week. Now, I am no stranger to not having a laundry machine. Freshman year, when I lived in the dorms on campus, I had to drag my laundry all the way down to the basement to use the washing machines. Of course, this laundry room was in a state-of-the-art dorm, had wireless, flat screen TV's and was next door to a Rec room with Billiards, Table Tennis and Foosball. The Laundromat in Eufaula is slightly different. The washing machines are from the early 1980's, the dryers have signs on them warning you against putting small children and/or animals in them, and the vending machines only serve "Diet Rite" soda and Pork Rinds. There is also an arcade located in the back of the building, but there is no sign advertising it, and people only enter/exit through the back door. I have no comment about the existence of this "arcade". 

I try to only visit the Laundromat early in the morning because:

A. It smells bad.

B. There is no air conditioning, therefore the hotter it gets, the more likely it is that I will spend the entire time breathing through my mouth and sweating.

C. The chance of having IEE rises exponentially with the time of the day.

My first IEE at the Laundromat: The Jehovah's Witness

I was sitting by the window at the front of the Laundromat reading a magazine and just minding my own business (which is something people around here don't do, which might explain why everyone seems to know that I'm "not from around here"). I've got my laptop bag, purse and 2 laundry baskets on the floor next to me when a woman walks in. She stops in front of me, smiles and kind of laughs to herself. Before I can do anything besides just stare at her she starts telling me that she thought my laundry basket was a baby basket (also implying that she thought there was a baby in it). She pointed to my cloth lined, wicker laundry basket at which point I joined in with her laugher out of sheer horror, not finding this situation the slightest bit funny. 

The First red flag in this situation is the fact that this woman thought I was of average child bearing age, despite the fact that I was carded the last time I went to see a rated "R" movie. Second red flag: Not only does she think I am at an appropriate age to have a child, but she somehow thinks that I physically look like I've given birth to an infant in recent months. 

Third red flag: This woman was under the impression that, had I actually had a child, was carrying said child around in a WICKER BASKET. 

She then proceeded to tell me her life story while I silently I tried to figure out why this woman was still talking to me instead of doing laundry. When she was done she handed me a pamphlet and walked out the door. I chalked it up to just another IEE, until I looked at the pamphlet and realized that she was a Jehovah's Witness and not just a friendly, yet misguided, local. I turned around just in time to see her drive away in her 1980's Camry with the Alabama license plate "J-Hova".

My afternoon IEE: Staring McCreepster

I partly blame myself for this IEE since I had decided to do my laundry in the afternoon, instead of in the morning due to the fact that I wasted my entire morning surfing the web at Blue Moon. I was extra sleepy that afternoon since I had just had lunch, it was hot outside, and it was almost the weekend. I figured that it would be alright to doze off for a bit while my laundry was in the washing machine. There was only one person in the Laundromat and he was sitting at the front. I figured if I positioned myself just right I could lean my chair against the back row of washers and no one would notice me sleeping. I managed to doze off for about 20 minutes while my clothes were in the washer, which just made me even more sleepy. I feel back asleep while my clothes were in the dryer and when I woke up I had a stiff neck and no circulation on my hands since I had a death grip my purse. The same guy was still sitting in the front and he stared at my while I pulled my clothes out of the dryer. This was not the usual "Oops you caught me staring at you so I'm going to look away immediately" kind of stare it was more like, "I am going to blatantly stare at you because you are a stranger and I have no concept of how uncomfortable it will make you" stare. After awkwardly making eye-contact half a dozen times he finally initiated a conversation. *Side Note* people around here tend to skip any form of a greeting and begin almost all conversations with a question.

Staring McCreepster: "You sleepy?"

Me: "No, I have a rare disease that causes me to fall asleep in seedy Laundromats" 

Staring McCreepster: "What?"

Me: "I said, yes I'm very tired today"

Staring McCreepster: "Where do you live?"

*Please note that he did not ask "Where are you from?"*

Me: "I live in Columbus, I just moved here from Austin."

Staring McCreepster: "How old are you?"

Me: "I'm 22."

Staring McCreepster: "You married?"

Me: "No. I live with my boyfriend."

Staring McCreepster: "You got any kids?"

KIDS? PLURAL?!?!

Not only do I have a problem with this guy asking me if I have kids for the reasons mentioned in the Jehovah's Witness section, but I also just told him that I'm NOT married. Staring McCreepster's skills obviously do not lie within the art of conversation making. 

I told him "No." and picked up the pace of my laundry folding in order to get out of there before the conversation really went downhill. 

Since my last IEE I started going to a new Laundromat aptly called "Superior Laundromat". There are video games located in the front of the building, the washing machines are all from this decade, and the vending machines serve Pepsi and Chex Mix. Does this mean I don't have any IEE's, of course not, but I do get to breath through my nose the entire time which is all a girl can really ask for. 

My most recent IEE: The Nosy Old Guy

I was sitting at the front of the new Laundromat with my laptop, just minding my own business. I noticed this old(er) man come into the Laundromat, but I'm fairly preoccupied with what I'm doing on my laptop so I don't really pay attention to what he is doing. He could have started River Dancing and I probably would have just kept staring at my computer screen. Now, I would guess that this man was about 65 years old based on his receding hairline and noticeable poor dental hygiene, but he could have easily been 20 years younger than that and just had a "rough" life. There is also a mother with 2 small girls, and another middle aged woman doing laundry at the same time. Yet for some reason as the man is leaving he decides to strike up a conversation with me. Again starting with a question and not a greeting...

Nosy Old Guy: "You doing homework on there?" *points towards my laptop*

As I start to tell this guy "no" he actually leans over my shoulder to see what I'm doing on my computer. Now in most all cultures, this would be considered rude, but once you reach a certain age (65+?) you seem to be able to do whatever you want and most people just blame it on the Dementia. It just so happens that I was working on a draft for my blog and the last this I want is for a local to stumble upon my blog so I quickly minimize the page, leaving Nosy Old Man staring at my background which is a picture of me and Nick from my sister's rehearsal dinner. In retrospect I wish I had of just kept the page open because at least then I wouldn't have had to spend the next 3 minutes feeling ridiculously uncomfortable while Nosy Old Guy stares at this picture of me and tells me how pretty I look. 

Next time, I'm bringing a book.