These Weirdos Are Making Me Crazy

That title is supposed to be read like Kramer's pretzel/thirsty line in his Woody Allen movie...in all the ways Jerry and Elaine and George suggested.

Saturday I was at Orb K filling a 44 oz cup with Diet Coke. Mrs. HM does not live by gas station chicken store alone, you know. She branches out. Has a Polar Pop every now and then. It's still Diet Coke. Still 44 ounces. But it's really, really cold when it comes out of the machine.

So there I was, topping off my cup. Sometimes I get a little too much. An accident. Uh huh. So I have to take a sip before I can fit the lid on there without it squeezing through the X on top. I don't put in a straw until I get back to the Mansion.

After that little sip, I put on the lid. I saw that somebody had left a straw paper on the counter in front of the fountain. So I threw that away. And somebody else had left a splat of cola on that counter. So I grabbed the towel they leave there on the edge, and wiped that up. Then, good deeds done, I turned to go pay for my magical elixir...and almost rammed right into an old weirdo!

Let the record show that this was Farmer Weirdo. No relation to Farmer H. That I KNOW OF. He was wearing overalls, was about as muscular as Fred Ziffel, and had on a bright yellow shirt under his overalls. Why he was playing the "I'm your shadow, you can't get rid of me, nyah, nyah, nyah" game that siblings torture each other with, I'll never know.

Who does that? Who stands so close behind you that you can't see them, not even out of your peripheral vision when you turn right to get a lid for your 44 oz Diet Coke Polar Pop, or left to pick up someone else's trash and wipe the counter? WHO DOES THAT? It's almost like he was dodging back and forth to stay unseen during my good deediness.

Ol' Fred did the same dang thing at the register. Like he was some kind of close-waiter.

These WEIRDOS are MAKING me CRAZY!