first, there is the dilemma every time I have to leave and have just poured a drink. I do not like to waste them, so I gulp them down, and as soon as I am driving, I realise I really have to use the bathroom. this happened today when my sister and I left for the Renaissance Festival…and we hadn’t even gotten out of the populated area to where I could have found a rest stop to use…and so I start thinking about why there are not rest stops in populated areas…because there are so many homes and businesses equipped with toilets, so theoretically they are unnecessary…..but…..wouldn’t it be great if there were places that were just public restrooms?
so I start thinking about all the houses and businesses, with their respective toilets, and their porcelain or plastic or foam seats and push flush handles, or stick flushes, or buttons to press when the automatic sensor isn’t working…and how gross toilets are when they aren’t clean, and how brightly they gleam if they are…
(and yet I fail to realise I am crazy)
Eventually we made it to the festival. There were fun things like trees in sweaters, and ladies asking me if I had killed a wildebeest for my furry vest (despite my wolf ears and tail, everyone always automatically goes for the wildebeest…I don’t get it).
There were also women pulling me aside to decorate me with baubles for the purpose of trying to flatter me into buying them. It was amusing…last year, a girl in a red hooded cape grabbed my arm and walked me halfway across the festival grounds for the purpose of dragging me into an art prints shop (and, I assume, because the idea of being a Red Riding Hood and being seen walking with a Wolf appealed to her).
The best one this year was also a girl in red. She talked a bit to me about something inconsequential, and I heard her using her fake British accent (she needed practise), so I replied in kind…then she spoke to a few other people in her shop before telling me she wanted to ask a question…
She was genuinely apologetic, and wanted to know if it bothered me when people who definitely don’t talk that way use fake British accents…because apparently, mine is so fabulous she did not realise it was fake.
Poor girl. My sister laughed and laughed.
And also. There is a song.
After hearing one song from them on a radio podcast a few years ago, I have picked through every song of theirs available on iTunes…and I get the impression I would not enjoy them on a large scale, but am in awe of the few songs I do like from them……..they are the songs that forge instant connections and associations in my mind…and I want you to have the opportunity (because our musical tastes are different) to tell me they are terrible.
I won’t stop listening to them with a glazed look in my eye, but, all the same…