Sunday, March 26, 2006

The Simple Life... Part Deux

Just when you think they've all gone home and you're safe for another day. Out they come again. The short bus rolls back into town and you're left to fend for yourself. You can't outrun them. You can't hide. You can't escape. They know where you are and just how to find you. Don't try to figure out how. It just is. It's as simple as that.

So I'm outside of the mall having a smoke break with a couple of other gals. I bring my book. I always do. I'm a loner. I like to sit alone, read my book, and have a smoke. Not this day. Not even a little. I go out and start to chat with the other ladies when this "gentleman" (And I use the term "gentleman" ever so lightly) comes up to where we are all sitting. He's talking to himself. Not in a mumbling sort of way either. He's full-fledged talking to himself. And loving it.

We keep on about our business. Business being smoking and talking about various crazies we've seen that day or how dead it is in our various stores. All of a sudden, this "gentleman" freaks out. Loudly. He seems to have misplaced his lighter. He's yelling and screaming and pacing frantically. Someone miraculously locates said missing lighter. With no thank you, "gentleman" continues on his way.

We take a couple more drags and "gentleman" returns. With a vengeance. He's yelling a little bit louder now. He then decides that he needs to take a rester and sits down a little bit from us. Now it's time to roll a joint.

That's right.

A joint.

At the mall.

On a Thursday afternoon.

In plain sight.

Somebody must have called security because out comes one of our finest guards threatening to call the cops. Well, "gentleman" freaks out (After completing the smoking of the joint) and then decides to show us how he would fight the po-po should they show up. He demonstrates his best judo chops, roundhouse kicks, crouching tiger, hidden dragon shit and says that he will bust these moves on the cops.

Keep in mind that we only had a few minutes for a break and clearly over ran our time limits while staying for the show. We must have smoked a pack between 4 of us and nobody could breathe when we went in. You just can't leave while that sort of free show is going on.

If that weren't enough, "gentleman" must have come down from his Mary Jane high. He finally realizes that the cops have been called and begins to host another spaz session. (Keep in mind that it's been about 10 minutes since the police have been called and clearly aren't coming.) He starts yelling that he can't find the keys to his vehicle and he needs to leave.

Us girls are still trying not to piss ourselves since nobody wore their depends and are trying not to look at Judo Chop. Some random person locates "gentleman's" key and he scurries off in search of his vehicle.

About 4 minutes later, as we're all laughed out and ready to go back to work, "gentleman" comes burning around the corner in his vehicle.

It was a mini BMX motorbike. 0.5 horsepower. Aptly suited for a 7 year old with training wheels.

Wait for it....

You may now laugh.

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