Riiiiight.

[psipsy]

In reflection on spending a little over a year using comparitively public places for my primary internet usage and otherwise heavy downloading, it makes sense that I would eventually happen across some interesting individuals, directly and indirectly, not to mention the inadvertant eavesdropping of conversations carried on by people with no concept of volume control. At least this method does allow some mobility. So I don't like an area I'm in? I pack up and move on to the next hotspot.

At Borders: Hm, there was one woman who was on her cell phone and was starting to get into a heated conversation over boyfriends or something, to the point where an older man next to her calmly asked her to keep her voice down in a public area, because "maybe other people don't want to hear about that." She didn't like that, so she promptly packed up and left. I thanked the man and said that if he didn't do anything, I would have. Then there was the gay man gossiping with one of the cafe workers at Borders, and going into explicit detail about his love life, high volume, full house. I was really close to getting the manager, but I think someone beat me to it, because he didn't keep it going for long.

At Kinko's: It's only slightly weirder, but I can handle weird. Plus I can sit a lot closer to the bathrooms, it's quieter, I pick the ones that don't close so I don't get pushed out, and most of them have vending machines with 20oz Dew for a buck. There was one time, when I was sitting here, just BT'ing away, and someone walks by and starts up a conversation about laptops. Ok, that's cool. We're talking for awhile, and discover his mind leans towards conspiracy theories and revolves around his ex-wife leaving him and becoming a lesbian witch. (I have my own conspiracy theory, which is the government and large corporations teaming up to run some large scale population control.) The red lights hadn't come on in my brain yet, but the yellow lights were warming up. By now I was holding back as much personal information as possible, but he didn't ask much, thankfully. Plus he had a story about a Muslim being told he just ate half a bag of pork rinds. Then there was the former psychiatrist who blindly started a conversation with me, without any eye contact to trigger it. Turns out he was waging a one-man legal battle against an HMO. While noble in concept, he soon found out that HMO's do not play nice. They yanked his license and have repeatedly tried to have him committed. (Considering he starts conversations entirely on his own, and he's on what he described as "rocket fuel for anti-depressants", I decided to not take any sides in this.) I left that evening before he did, and in the parking lot I saw only three cars: Kinko's company car, mine, and something that looked like someone was living in it. Process of elimination. And only yesterday, there was a man in a suit and tie trying to get his laptop to get on the internet. Kinko's employees aren't really allowed to fiddle with customer's laptop settings, and since it was obvious that I was running under my own steam, he asked me. It was rather straightforward, plugging into a different ethernet cord, restarting the browser. No biggie. Now he's cooking too. Then he asks me if I've been doing anything healthy for myself. I drolly reply that I refrain from eating the chemicals at work. Then he tries to sell me on some no-carb energy drink. Then he tries to sell me on vitamin supplements. Then he tries to sell me on some pyramid scam. I don't know the details, I was busy deciding on either talking it all down, or pushing the Big Red Rude button. I went over to lend a hand and now he's wasting my time? It was then that I realized that sometimes I'm too polite for my own good. Oh, that button was so big and red and shiny. I really wanted to push the button. Seconds away from doing a Baby Plucky impression and making the "elelator go down the hooole", he figures out that I'm not at all interested and puts the brakes on the whole thing.

Same as dealing with anyone else in these places, I keep a tight lip on personal stuff.

Fortunately these are only isolated events, and I think most potential ones are thwarted somehow. Maybe it's because I look and act like I'd just as soon crack them over the head and stuff their body in the trunk of my car for some eventual nefarious purpose. False! There's no room in my trunk for that, and I don't put anything on the roof because I like to drive around with an open sunroof. Or they think any exchange of words will turn me into one of those weird "friend for life" types. False! It'll only last a week. Or they think any exchange of information will be enough for me to track them down and eat them. False! I'm not a very good cook. Or for whatever reason they come up with.

If this is the worst I have to put up with, then Weird On.

Comments

[rubian77.livejournal.com]

I think we're all just weirdo magnets.