Happy Ground Hog Day
Today is Groundhog Day, and I offer you a little end of winter treat.
I was put in mind lately of something that happened to me a very long time ago, when I was still using trendy chemical amusement aids and did not take life very seriously.
I was at the State Fair in a wheelchair. The circumstances of my being in that wheelchair are long and tedious and I feel no need to go into them here. Let me just say that I did not really need that chair. Anyhooooo , there I was, decked out in my Fair finery, (T-shirt, jeans, and a hat with a nice new hat pin that I had begged off of someone just because I could.) wheeling around and popping the occasional cripple wheelie just to show off and get the sympathy vote from strangers and people that I hope to never see again.
After a couple of hours of this, it seemed a good time to take a break. There were about five of us sitting and standing in a circle, talking and having a good time, solving the problems of the world and correcting all that is wrong. (AKA bullshitting and getting fucked up)
One of the guys in the group, about six feet tall and a strapping figure of a man, gets an inspiration and starts doing his impression of a Southern Baptist Minister. Getting into character, he had the attention of the entire group and the occasional passing stranger when he went for the ‘Big Finale’.
Yelling “AND YOU WILL BE HEALED” he smacks me square on the head with the heel of his hand, jamming the backside of the hatpin directly into my skull. It hurt like hell! It was just like hammering a small nail into your skull with one hit.
Not thinking, I LEAPT out of the chair, ready to pay him back in some painful fashion, when I realized that others were watching, others who had no idea that this was all an act and thought something remarkable had taken place. His yelling and gestures had attracted quite a few people, and that few now had their collective attention on me, the recipient of his blessing.
I threw my hands into the air and yelled, “Thank you lord! ” and fell to my knees, wrapping my arms around his knees and hugging his legs, being as dramatic as hell and making a seem like a big deal. (All the while wishing I could bite him and pay him back for the hole in my head.)
The ‘audience’ loved it.
He, however, lost the sense of adventure entirely and got embarrassed. Not knowing how to behave, he pulled me up and helped me back into the chair. Making noises about his being done here and the like.
I don’t think he ever forgave me for leaving him holding the bag. He was a proud man and hated getting embarrassed.
Sometimes I love being an asshole.
I was put in mind lately of something that happened to me a very long time ago, when I was still using trendy chemical amusement aids and did not take life very seriously.
I was at the State Fair in a wheelchair. The circumstances of my being in that wheelchair are long and tedious and I feel no need to go into them here. Let me just say that I did not really need that chair. Anyhooooo , there I was, decked out in my Fair finery, (T-shirt, jeans, and a hat with a nice new hat pin that I had begged off of someone just because I could.) wheeling around and popping the occasional cripple wheelie just to show off and get the sympathy vote from strangers and people that I hope to never see again.
After a couple of hours of this, it seemed a good time to take a break. There were about five of us sitting and standing in a circle, talking and having a good time, solving the problems of the world and correcting all that is wrong. (AKA bullshitting and getting fucked up)
One of the guys in the group, about six feet tall and a strapping figure of a man, gets an inspiration and starts doing his impression of a Southern Baptist Minister. Getting into character, he had the attention of the entire group and the occasional passing stranger when he went for the ‘Big Finale’.
Yelling “AND YOU WILL BE HEALED” he smacks me square on the head with the heel of his hand, jamming the backside of the hatpin directly into my skull. It hurt like hell! It was just like hammering a small nail into your skull with one hit.
Not thinking, I LEAPT out of the chair, ready to pay him back in some painful fashion, when I realized that others were watching, others who had no idea that this was all an act and thought something remarkable had taken place. His yelling and gestures had attracted quite a few people, and that few now had their collective attention on me, the recipient of his blessing.
I threw my hands into the air and yelled, “Thank you lord! ” and fell to my knees, wrapping my arms around his knees and hugging his legs, being as dramatic as hell and making a seem like a big deal. (All the while wishing I could bite him and pay him back for the hole in my head.)
The ‘audience’ loved it.
He, however, lost the sense of adventure entirely and got embarrassed. Not knowing how to behave, he pulled me up and helped me back into the chair. Making noises about his being done here and the like.
I don’t think he ever forgave me for leaving him holding the bag. He was a proud man and hated getting embarrassed.
Sometimes I love being an asshole.
posted by MizfiTroll at 5:27 AM
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