No One Understands Me For Some Reason. Am I Weird?
Are you one of those people that engages with the people you run into during your day, or do you keep chit-chat to a minimum? I am that person that makes others uncomfortable by talking to them on the elevator, and advises complete strangers that they have spinach stuck in their teeth. Sometimes this can prove inconvenient. Like when the person on the receiving end of my friendliness doesn’t understand what the fuck I’m talking about.I was in the County Government Building today to pay my personal property taxes. I know. I know. Government building should have given me a clue that the person helping me may not want to be there or share my same sense of humor. I’m trying to explain that
I sold my Toyota but have this other SUV. She wants to know if I’ve been paying personal property taxes on the other SUV and I responded honestly, “I have no idea.” I’ve had the SUV for about two years now and should know these things, but it’s just one of those five thousand details that fell out of my head at some point. I then advise her, “You know, you don’t really OWN a car until your child pukes in it, right? Puke really christens the vehicle as yours, don’t you think?
My son vomited in the car just a few weeks ago. So, I’ve only really owned the car for about a month. I mean, ‘meaningfully’ owned it.”
I love the bovine stare that imparts confusion, irritation and simpleness all at the same time. Then I remembered when I tried to joke with the highway patrolman in New Hampshire or Vermont or Maine or someplace and told him I was stopped on the side of the highway because I was trying to break up a domestic dispute in the backseat before he could see that I was talking about my children, who were spitting on each other. Nor could he appreciate that I wasn’t kidnapping anyone or otherwise abusing anyone in the car. I have never been to jail. Really. Well, at least I’ve never been the one in jail. The Government Clerk had clearly never had children or cleaned up someone else’s vomit. Lucky her. I looked at the Government Clerk and said, “Yeah. Never mind. I’d be happy to pay those taxes.”
You pay personal taxes on suv’s? Am i missing something?
I’m never sure if I should tell a guy standing right in front of me at my desk if his zipper is down.
There is nothing wrong with talking to complete strangers on elevators. It’s the randomess factor in life that keeps it interesting. And dangerous.