Wednesday, 19 October 2011

It's almost a punch in the face....

I am going to file this under 'face punching' but it was more of a strange encounter and I guess I want to punch the encounter itself.

Since Husband and I are moving in just over a week (more on that later), we headed out to spend our leftover wedding present money on new bedroom furniture.  We have decided to rent and not buy a house so we can continue to spend money frivolously on furniture and vacations and our fur baby rather than being responsible adults who pay for things like new roofs, and worry about the basement flooding or buying a new washing machine.  We are not ready for that.
Anyway, the point of this post is not that I can ramble on about nothing for pages and pages....

The point IS we found ourselves standing in the hallway waiting for the elevator.  You may remember, the elevators in our building are rather slow.  See my previous face punch for proof of this.  We were waiting and waiting and waiting.  Then the most adorable little old lady came to wait with us.  Picture this - she's about 4'5, slight stoop but not enough for a grotesque hunchback, lots of lipstick, standard little old lady haircut (you know exactly what I mean), a cart on wheels almost as big as her.  Adorable, right?  She stood and looked at me and said, "You know it's pouring rain out there, right?" 

We were headed to the parking garage to get the car, so I was only wearing a sweater and jeans (no, not the jeans I have outgrown, an older pair I can still squeeze into, no cause for celebration).  I smiled, as one does at cute little old ladies, and said, "o we're just going to the garage, but thank you."

She smiled sweetly at me and inquired, "Do you have a car?"

I continued smiling, trying to be polite even though my cheeks were beginning to hurt.  Isn't there a time when the pleasantries have gone too far?  I am just waiting for the elevator, we don't have to be best friends.  We can wait in silence.  Crazy little adorable lady.  But she was being sweet, so I replied, "Yes." and was hoping to end the conversation there.


She was still smiling, although it now felt a little strained, and slightly sinister.  Then she said, with saracasm dripping so heavily from her voice it formed a little puddle of bitterness at her feet, "Well isn't that nice for you." [italics mine]. 

For some reason, this last comment was a strange mixture of mean and snobby and pleading (we both felt as though we should offer her a ride to a place of her choosing), with a little bit of 'none of your business', and it struck me as hilarious.  Really irrationally funny.  I could hardly hold in my laughter.

This being the end of the encounter, you understand my confusion.  I can't possibly punch this little lady in the face, not even in cyber space.  So here I am, not punching her, but left with the feeling something should be punched.  You decide for yourself.

I do have a few real punches while we are the subject.  First - PUT AWAY YOUR CANADA GOOSE JACKETS TORONTO!!!!!!  Just because you can afford a jacket that costs roughly twice my monthly rent doesn't mean there is any reason at all to wear it while it is about 15 degrees out.  Toronto never gets cold enough to really need one of these jackets anyways, so really you just look wimpy and stupid wearing it in the beginning of autumn.  If you insist on having one at least wait until it gets somewhere closer to freezing. 

Second, I had a special request for a punch - those disgusting new commercials for cold sore medication have gotten disgustingly graphic.  If your mouth herpes are so bad they disfigure your entire face, do us all a favour and stay home.  Do not show them to me on television.   I have a sensitive stomach.

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