Lights out.
Sunday, in a fit of heat-induced insanity, I decided to go to Target to buy a fan (ok, who am I kidding? I just wanted an excuse to go to Target).
I was listening to a woman and her mother bicker over the price of plastic hangers when the flourescent lights started to flicker. I looked up, and the daughter looked up at me and said, "What's going on?!"
"I don't know. Maybe the power's going out."
One of my many, many problems with the public is that I foolishly assume that people automatically get me, and understand my sense of humor.
I looked at her completely seriously. I leaned in and said, "So, should we start looting now, or wait till the lights to out?"
The mother's mouth was hanging open, and the daughter looked at me and said "That is not right!! Looting is not ok!" Then she looked at everything in my cart, like she was going to report to the security guards to make sure I paid for it.
I heard the hum of the air conditioning stop, but the lights stayed on, though they were still flickering (and it was incredibly annoying).
I ran into my sister Jackie and her friend, last minute shopping for her dad's Father's Day gift. After filling her with seething jealousy over my new pink Razr phone, I left to go pay for my stuff and go home (none of that stuff including a fan, because apparently every other person in the vicinity got the same idea and they were all gone).
When I got to the register, the conveyor belts weren't working. I asked the cashier why the registers and lights were working, but the conveyor belts weren't, she said she thought the back-up generators getting ready to stop working as well.
About two seconds after she handed me my receipt, EVERYTHING went off. It was black. A couple of old ladies were in line behind me, and they were freaking out. Then we heard, "ALL ABOOOOOAAAAAARD! HAHAHAHAHAHA" My cell phone was ringing, and it scared the shit out of the two old ladies (make a note people: "Crazy Train" by Ozzy Osbourne scares the elderly). It was funny. But then they yelled at me for having such an "offensive" ringtone.
Then they herded the people out of the store like cattle.
What an exciting life I lead.
Later that day, I went over to my parents' house to suck up to my dad by giving him gifts, and eat dinner.
After dinner, my sister got up and left the room. So my mom looked at me and said, "Well, kiddo, I guess you're cleaning up all by yourself."
"Uh, right. It's not Mother's Day, sister. You're cleaning."
"I don't think so. If it wasn't for mothers, there would be no fathers. I am the 'birthing agent'. I made this day possible for [Dad]."
My mother is very clearly a lunatic.
I said, "So, it's like the chicken and the egg. Which came first - the mother or the father?"
My dad walked in and said, "The father. The father ALWAYS comes first."
My mom rolled her eyes. "Don't I know."
Today, when I got home from work, I had my first-ever neighborly conversations with the neighbor who lives next to my apartments (she lives in the house that Tattoo Face lived in before his whole family vanished in the night). She came to my door a few weeks ago to tell me that she lost her cat, but that was the extent of our conversation. Mostly because even though I am only 50% of my mother, I inherited 100% of her not-very-friendly-toward-her-neighbors way of living.
Her: Hi!
Me: ...hi. Did you find your cat?
Her: No. Do you think I should call the shelter?
Me: Yeah, you could.
Her: I'm [insert name here because I'm an asshole and can't remember it now].
Me: Oh, I'm Andria.
Her: Sandra?
Me: (louder) Andria.
Her: Angela?
Me: ANDRIA
Her: Sandra?
Me: Sure.
I never would have had any idea that Andria was such a wildly exotic, indecipherable name, but it is. Because my whole life, people have fucked it up. And I don't understand it. Because they look right at it and call me Adrian, or Angela, or Adrianna, or Aundria, or Andrea.
But then, I suppose Andria's not as bad as Smelly Pirate Hooker, which someone called me earlier.
Arrrrrgh, me love you long time.
I'm so lame.
