When I walk my dog I usually run into a lot of interesting people.
And by interesting people I mean not interesting people. And by meet I mean usually walk by without acknowledging as I don’t bother to take off my headphones (which sometimes aren’t really playing music, ssshhh), or just give a tiny smile.
But there are a few other times that people stop and want to talk to me. I can’t help it, I’m just a fascinating person and others can tell just by looking how much brighter their day would be if they stopped and talked to me.
Here’s a transcript of how these conversations usually go:
Them: Hi, isn’t he cute? What’s his name?
Me: Castro
Them: Huh, that’s a unique name.
Me: He’s a Havanese, which a Cuban breed of dog.
Them: Oh.
Me: Yeah
Them: something about weather or current events
Me: Yeah, I know
Them: Have a nice night
Me: You too.
That is pretty much it, every time. Occasionally the talk comes to a stop if they also have a dog and the dogs are interacting in a humorous/cute/violent way.
Then since I live in a town with other people, a good number of times I run into people I actually know. They usually want to talk a little bit longer than that, which sucks. Especially since the people I only see when I’m out are friends of my mom.
The only positive is that they usually act somewhat impressed by my all-around awesomeness (translation- I have an internship and haven’t been arrested or to rehab yet). So they usually compliment me, which is nice I suppose.
So as you can see, and if you’re read mostly anything else I’ve ever written or been lucky enough to ever talk to me, you can see I don’t like people. Just in general I find them unpleasant to be around. So when I walk my dog, I like to toss on some headphones, maybe listen to music and just walk around the neighborhood. It’s nice. The only thing that hampers my good time is people and geese shit all over one sidewalk where I like to walk him, and I’d much rather walk in geese shit and a crowd of people.
This past Tuesday night I was walking my dog, and I get to the geese-filled sidewalk without so much as a passing car. It’s been good so far. Then I see two women walking towards me. I start to look anywhere but at them, figuring if they see my headphones and I’m looking in another direction they’ll just assume I didn’t even notice them.
But unfortunately for my plan, Castro likes other people. Well, he doesn’t like them. He likes to charge in their direction, and either lick them or bark at them. Once he notices the two women he takes off, so I have to look up and see them, but I was in for a somewhat pleasant surprise.
One of the women was the kind of attractive women I work with who become a little more attractive because she’s older than me and we sort of work together. She notices it’s me and stops for a chat.
Her: Hey, do you live around here?
Me: Yeah, I live a few streets down there, at
Her: Wow, I had on idea you lived around here. I live over there.
She points out her house, which was pretty close to mine but not on the same street.
Me: Yeah, I know. Your room is the top right corner, looking at your house from your backyard.
Her: What?
Me: I could say ‘or so I’ve heard,’ but that would be a lie. I just was over there the other night. Hey, casual Friday is coming up, what do you think about wearing that little number you wore for your anniversary a few weeks ago.
Her: What?
Me: The green one. Don’t play dumb with me.
Her: I’m just a little shocked.
Me: You know, for a journalist I thought you’d be a little better with words. I believe instead of shocked you mean flattered. It’s not that big of a mistake, but still.
Her: Yeah, I guess I did mean flattered.
Me: I know.
Her: Well, we’re gonna go now, but next week my husband will be out of town, and I think I’ll need a pickle jar open. Might you have time to stop by and help me out?
Me: Drop the kids off at nana’s and I’ll see if I can pencil you in. Smell ya later, sweet thang. [Note: At that point in the conversation I decided that my abysmal history with the ladies would change if I started acting more like Leon Phelps.]
I guess by now you must’ve realized that’s not the exact transcript of the conversation. The outfit she wore was black, but I changed it just for safety purposes, of course.
Anyway, she seemed surprised to notice me, and pleasantly surprised to find out I lived so close. I doubt she walked away with any thoughts on adultery, but I’d be lying if I say she didn’t leave our conversation with a smile and twinkle in her eye.
But I intend on finding out. Sometime this weekend I will be standing outside of her house holding up a boombox. I’ll get her attention by gently tossing pebbles at her window. I’ll probably play “Ms. Robinson” on repeat. I’ll surely get my assed kicked by her husband, who I don’t know nor have ever seen but have little doubts he can kick my ass.
I continued on my walk for about two more minutes until I ran into another person. I didn’t know him. He looked a few years younger than me. He had on a baggy, partially faded pair of jeans and a yellow t-shirt that said something along the lines of
Anyway, the conversation starts off pretty much like I wrote it above. Then out of nowhere he goes, “man, this is such bullshit.”
Me: “Um, yeah it really is.”
Him: “Yeah. Look at all the houses around here man. They just build them everywhere, fucking rich people.”
Me: “Um, yeah.
Him: “Yeah, none of these were here like 6 years ago.”
Me: “Well yeah, that’s how building new houses work I guess.”
Him: “It’s just such bullshit man. These fucking rich people don’t even know where these houses were built.”
Me: “Must be difficult to get home then.”
Him: “Nah man. I mean they were built on a swamp. A really bad swamp. They don’t even know or care, fucking rich people.”
Did I mention he was in a
Him: “I just can’t stand these rich fuckers. They don’t know what it’s like to really be out there man. Like you, you get it. You had to work for your money.”
Me: “Well I guess I had a job during high school but I have some very generous parents as well.”
Him: “Yeah man, you get it. These rich fucks don’t know what it’s like to not have money.”
Him: “Like the kids get whatever they want. Like I bought an I-Pod last year, and with my own money I had to earn. I was really proud of myself. But these rich fuckers just ask for it and get one.”
I should mention here that I was still in my clothes for work, which I don’t think make me look rich, but I do usually wear a button-down shirt and nice pants. He also saw I had an I-Pod with me because I had to take it out to pause it once he started talking to me.
Him: “I’m sorry man, but I can’t stand these rich fucks. You probably think I’m crazy.
Yes, yes I do.
Him: “It’s just these rich people man. You can probably tell I’m hard worker. Just by looking at me you can probably tell I’m big into skating and shit too.
Me: “Um, yeah. I noticed. Are those skating sandals you have on?”
Him: “No, just regular ones.”
Me: “I see.”
Him: “So I’m going to study auto repair and shit.
Me: “Yeah.”
Him: “So what are you studying?”
Me: “Journalism.”
Him: “Oh cool. Do you go to BOCES?”
Me: “No.”
Him: “Oh, I’m pretty sure they have that kind of thing there.”
Me: “I’m sure they do.”
Him: “I’m sorry to hold you up man. You’re probably standing thing thinking I’m all crazy and shit.
Yes, yes I am.
Him: “My buddy always tells other people all the weird and horrible shit I’ve done so nobody wants to hang out or talk to me. I mean, I’ve don’t some stupid shit, but who hasn’t when they’re young, right?”
Me: “Yeah, everyone has at some point.
Up until high school I think the dumbest, most “insane” thing I ever did was not check the answers to my math homework one time when we were supposed to, and I saw sweating my ass off in fear of being caught. Since then, I don’t know. I don’t really think I’ve ever really studied for a test.
Him: “Alright man, I’ll let you go.”
Me: “Thanks, have a good one.”
So yeah, that whole thing now seems like it might’ve actually been a test for my life. Had I shunned this guy or pissed him off, I might be chopped up in about 8 pieces right now in the swamp that rich fucks don’t even realize they live on. Anyway, on the way back to my house I passed him again, he was stopped talking to some family who looked about as thrilled as I did when talking to him.
Unfortunately for me only one of the two above conversations happened like I described, and it was the latter of the two. So next time I walk my dog I’m going to try my best not to talk to anyone, but then again, in this instance it might’ve just saved me from being the first/next/last victim in this sick kid’s string of torture-murders. Luckily I’m just awesome enough to talk my way out of death.
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