Monster Hands and Other Maladies

I dunno about you, but I do some pretty odd things when I'm home alone...and occasionally in public (but only when I think nobody is paying attention). Mostly talk to myself. Yeah, I can see myself in my golden years, shuffling through the grocery store parking lot, congratulating myself for remembering to actually pick up the ice I paid for (I always forget to pick it up!).

It seems like I'm always being caught talking to myself or doing something strange (to the public, but funny to me). I hate having to remind myself that "that's not acceptable behavior" or restraining myself from doing something I would get a kick out of, but which most people would probably pull their children closer, if I followed through with it. For instance, I always feel compelled to goose an old person while they're shopping for produce, reading a package of English muffins or basically preoccupied with shopping. I try to convince myself I'm really doing it for them. Keeping them alert and on their toes, which all old people should be. But in reality, I just wanna hear them yelp or see their cute lil' faces twist up into what I like to refer to as "gnarly face."

I remember this one time I was in the frozen food section and this old lady was pretty much camped out in the TV dinners section. So I waited. And waited. And waited, for her to make a decision, so I could get on with my shopping and hopefully get home before nightfall (it was 3:30). So I kinda sneaked up beside her (out of view of her and others, of course) and made what I call "monster hands." You know, like when you're a little kid and you wanna be scary, you poise your hands like claws. So anyway, I'm passing the time by making monster hands and pretending to sneak up on her, all the while going "Grrrr" under my breath. Until she looked up and caught me. I quickly pretended to be yawning and stretching my hands, while checking my watch (which I wasn't wearing). She seemed to be none the wiser. From now on, monster hands are for behind the back, only. Not within the person's peripheral vision. Duly noted.

I've noticed I pretty much stick to three basic kinds of people, when humoring myself in public: Old people, hot guys and the stupid. Here's why:

Old people usually bring out the "BOO!" inside me. Like, when I get stuck behind them for 20 minutes, 'cause they are diggin' in their purse or making a cart maneuvering decision or reminding themselves to breath. When these stall tactics take place, I wanna tippy tippy toe up behind them and scream "BOO!" or "MOVE!" But I don't, 'cause that would not be nice. But seeing them get some use outta those Depends would be kinda funny.

Hot guys are just fun eyecandy. I've never been one to "cruise" someone, but I'm not blind either. I'll see the occasional hot guy and make my usual (internal) cat-from-Pepe Le Pew-cartoon-sound of "Rowr rowr," or the always favorable "Me likee." Unfortunately, I sometimes unintentionally forget to keep this to an inner dialogue and have been overheard once or twice. C'est la vie.

And last, but not least, my favorite: Stupid people. Their favorite move seems tobe parking their cart in the center of the fuckin' aisle, while they choose between Chicken Noodle or Chicken With Stars. Decisions, decisions. I can practically hear the Jeopardy music playing. Not the good version, but the version played with kazoos and paper combs. Normally I wait a minute or two for them to touch down on planet Earth, notice they are blocking the flow of traffic, and move their cart accordingly. When this doesn't happen, though, I like to do one of two things: 1) Move their cart for them. The look of panic on women's faces when they see their cart, with their purse in it, being moved, is priceless. 2) Go stand next to them and pretend to be contemplating, too. And by "stand next to," I mean getting into their personal space. Not quite touching them, but close enough to smell my breath. This seems to get them moving and on their way. It also clears them from any future aisles I may find myself shopping on. Neat.

Oh yeah, and for the odd behavior at home: My kitchen window is right across from my nosey neighbor's bedroom window (Ms. Fossil). So, late the other night, I was up making a sandwich and whilst cutting it in half, yelled "Hikeebah!" (It's a Tom Servo/Japanese thing. Think Emeril's "Bam!"), before realizing I did it so loudly. I'm sure she appreciated that.