Viral Blogging

I have a fun story to tell. Some probably already got a glimpse of this on Facebook. 

I noticed a few days ago that several copies were printed off of my blog post of “The Donut Dollies”. I knew who had done it, but at the time I didn’t say a word. But this morning I noticed that the stack of copies of my printed off blog post were fewer and fewer. So I am guessing that people were taking them to read.

Then the person who was responsible for printing it off and sharing it with the rest of the people here walked in and so I finally asked her about it.

Of course she admitted to doing it and then she explained that she had e-mailed the URL of the blog post to her family and close friends and their families.

She reported that one of her best friends had printed it off and shared the story with their children. And she also sent it to her son, and her son printed it off and shared it with his child as well.

I thought that of course the story of The Donut Dollies was a very interesting one. And apparently they did too.

The children that were told this story actually took the blog with them to school. And they discussed it in their class.

For that, I was amazed and a little flattered.

I know that sometimes my blog as whole gets passed around. That is evident to the amount of total views. Yet I do not really know who else is reading it and I do not know to what extent my blog posts gets shared and passed around. I do however, think that its cool!

And I also know that people are reading, even though they do not come out into the public and tell me “Hey, I liked your post” or whatever. They sit in silence and they read.

I never know which blog post is going to make either a wave or a big splash. But I think that as a writer/blogger when it does happen, it’s something that I become very proud of.

A lot of people seem to enjoy the personal experiences of life that when I look back, is just so funny or silly. Some call me a comedian, but I’m still not on stage or on television talking about my experiences and stories. I’m not sure that’s something I would do. Still people seem to enjoy it.

This post though, seems to have really spread like wildfire, going viral.. statewide.

It will be interesting to see what happens from here. And for those silent readers… thank you. And thank you to all who visit and read my blog.

 

 

 

Tales Of The Hunted

This morning,  I was hanging out in the community room when I decided to go give some grief to the apartment manager.

As soon as I walked into his office, he alerted me that there was something that I would want to see, that was walking on the sidewalk outside of the apartment complex.

By the time I found an open window, the alleged eye candy was gone. I saw the back of the body and never saw what the apartment manager was hoping that I would take a glimpse of.

My first thought was that she was going to the corner store. I figured “what goes up, must come down”. So I went back into the community room, poured what was probably my fifth cup of coffee today, and waited to see if whether or not this woman would walk back again.

The other neighbors were watching me watching the window. They finally asked what I was doing. When I explained it to them, one of the ladies just rolled her eyes at me and opened up her coin purse and threw about $1.50 at me in coins. She told me to go to the corner store to see whether or not my theory might be true that this woman that I was supposed to see, might be sitting at the bus stop at the end of the block, or if she was inside the corner store. All in the hopes that I would stop looking at women and start talking to them.

Either way, I was sent out on a mission to chase skirt.

But the hunter would turn out to be the hunted.

As I approached the corner bus stop, I didn’t see any trace of the woman of whom I was chasing. Instead there was another woman sitting quietly and patiently at the bus stop with her back turned to me.

I didn’t bother pay attention. Instead I passed by her and looked. Her eyes caught mine as I zoomed by her and she smiled.

I continued on going into the corner store with my $1.50 and bought something quick and cheap. But the first woman was never found. I don’t know if I wasted too much time to go out on this hunt and she jumped on a bus or if she kept walking. All I know is that I never saw her again.

This other woman however, would turn me into the person being sought after.

As I was on my journey of returning home, the same attractive woman was sitting there quietly. When I began to pass her by again, she stopped me and asked me what time it was.

I stopped and gave her the time and she thanked me. And then asked me the most unusual question. A question that I didn’t see coming.

“Do you like to party?”.

Without thinking it through, I lied through my damned teeth and said, “Hell yeah!”.

Suddenly, this woman was asking me if I wanted to party with her. 

Uh-oh….

Abort! Abort! ABORT!!

I moved away from her. She kept giving options of where she and I could go to “party”. And even she asked me if I lived around in this neighborhood. By that time, my common sense finally caught up and I just had to tell her “Are you crazy??”.

As I said, the hunter became the hunted. This prostitute was trying to make a sale, but I declined.

Its only Wednesday. And its been crazy needless to say.  My journey to The Oasis is still days away.

I think that I should focus more on being with my family rather than trying to talk to women.

Vexing Advertisements

“Life is as tedious as twice-told tale, vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.”~ William Shakespeare

As of lately, I have been noticing this bombardment of television advertisements for online dating sites. More specifically, match.com.

It is one of the more popular and well known websites for singles who are looking for dating and relationships.

But this commercial has annoyed me since the first time I noticed one of the actresses giving a “testimonial” to the website.

She says something similar to the following:

“I’m not looking to date a bunch of guys. Just the right ones.” 

Simply annoying. After all, the whole construct of dating is to FIND the right one. Whether or not a person does when they date is clearly a personal choice.

I am not a member of match.com and I probably never will be. I’ve only signed up for ONE dating website that was supposed to be FREE, but really wasn’t. And truthfully, I didn’t find anyone that caught my eye.

But I am going to safely assume that match.com takes you through a journey of your likes/dislikes and then “matches” you up with someone that has given the same answers as you, believing you are a good fit.

It is a business and they do what they do. But still, if you are “dating all the right ones” then what in the world is the point to continue to use an online dating service? If you found the right one based on your matches, isn’t that enough? Why would you continue to date if you have “found the right one”?

Stupid.

I’m not saying that people who use these websites are lame, but what I am saying is that this commercial that I see over and over and over again… IS lame. Or am I wrong?

Yes, match.com is a business. And they do what they do and offer the possibility of dating and relationships. And I know that sometimes things work out in the end and two people who have found each other have fallen in love and get married and have their happily ever after. Most certainly, match.com has its own ways of measuring their business with success. And that’s fine. I believe that they say 1 in 5 find matches that they are happy with. Sounds like pretty good odds, right?? I just think that the marketing tool on television is a little FUBAR. Just the one commercial.

Naturally, match.com will want to continue in gaining business by having people join the website. I have no idea just how many have joined, neither do I know how many couples have successfully found one another and it lead to a happy life of marriage. I am sure that it has happened. I won’t dare say that it hasn’t because that is not something that I know.

It is my personal opinion that the woman that they’ve probably hired to give that kind of statement, honestly isn’t all that attractive physically. I know that they try to make things full of glamour and what not. That’s the point. Attract as many potential members as possible.

But its a little nuts to have someone say, “I don’t wanna date guys, just the right ones.”

Dating has come a long way. Most certainly things have changed from what I believed worked in the world.

I was sharing a story with someone just yesterday about how a few years ago,  I would go to the club and when I found some woman that I thought was attractive, I would buy them a drink. I would tell the waitress that I wanted to buy them a drink, and I would watch from beginning to end. From the pick up at the bar all the way to the delivery of the drink to the woman. Anticipating that the woman would at least sit next to me and have a conversation. THAT NEVER HAPPENED. 

But that’s how I thought it worked. Geez, how wrong was I? To me, that was money well wasted. And after a few times of that happening, I quit doing it and saved my money in the long run.

Whether or not online dating works, is not the subject for this blog post. It’s the fact that I’ve lost count at how many times I’ve rolled my eyes into the back of my head hearing this stupid commercial. And for those who are successful at it? Congratulations.

 

 

 

Using A Daily Oxygen Mask

Lead the life that will make you kindly and friendly to everyone about you, and you will be surprised what a happy life you will lead~ Charles M. Schwab 

If you have ever flown on an airplane before, you know how they always seem to take their time going through all of the safety procedures.

But some people actually fail to either hear or understand why they instruct you to place the oxygen mask upon yourself before administering one to a child or someone who is needing someone else to do it for them.

I’ve spoken to plenty of parents who get frustrated and downright angry and they say, “I’ll put it on my child before I will put it on myself. I’ll let myself die from lack of oxygen before I let my child die!”.

Well, that does seem noble. And even though I am not a parent myself, I can understand why they would want to help and protect their child.

There is a reason why they say to give yourself the oxygen mask before trying to help someone else. Because if there comes a situation where neither one of you can breathe… then how can you help your child? YOU need to be able to breathe first, otherwise you become useless in helping that child.

Now, I’m not trying to cheese off anyone but if you stop and think about it… it is all true. You need to help yourself before you can help others.

The same application can be used in daily life. If it seems to be hitting the fan and you want to help others, you need to make sure that you are okay and able to handle whatever situation it is that causes you the desire or need to help someone else.

It becomes wise to make sure that you have the strength and fortitude to help someone, if that is what you are wanting to do. If you are not happy, how in the world can you possibly cause someone else to be happy?

Because of our imperfect nature, we all have problems, faults, issues, and what not. And I could be the first person to tell you that it is a great feeling knowing that you have the ability to be able to help others in their times of crisis. I’ve written about it so many times before in previous blog posts about how good of a job I can help others by simply listening. So many that it could seem like to the reader that I am boasting and/or bragging.

However, how can I personally expect to be helpful to someone else if I am not happy?

Ladies & gentlemen, readers and subscribers… lately, I haven’t been happy. And I’ve almost come to the point where I have shut myself off to those who are so used to me just simply being there and offering a salutation or sentiment for the sake of getting them to either laugh or smile. I do feel bad about not being there, but I would would have to put on the oxygen mask of life upon myself before I can help anyone else.

My younger brother and his family are coming soon here from Europe to be with my sister and her family. And I personally am getting excited to see them again. From that point, myself and my brother and sister and their families will leave out of town for about a week. And then when my brother and his family leave to go visit my parents, I will be leaving my own way to go to Houston that weekend to see SIX MINUTE CENTURY perform.

It is my intention that at the time I am gone away from home, that I will be doing a lot of self-reflection on all of the issues that have been causing me to be unhappy. And I will also take that time to figure out what I am going to do about it so that I am once again a happier person.

I will be with family, and I believe that to be a good thing. Even if things get rough with them (because we all sometimes have problems with family), I am even more thrilled to know that I will be able to hang out with people who have always caused my worries to disappear, even for a little while. It will most likely be so good to hang out with Dr. Froth and his wife again, among the rest of the band for one night and those in the band’s circle. Looking back at each time I have done so, I can honestly say that during those times I have never had a care in the world. And I was able to just calm down and enjoy myself. The worries of the world will just have to wait until I get home.

And so that is my personal relation to the content of this blog. I know that soon I will be able to have the time to fix what is wrong and begin to do better of what is right. And after that, I can be available for those who have used my shoulder to cry on before so that they could do it again- if necessary.

Remember, helping others is always a good thing. Being able to fix yourself before you can fix the problems of the world must come first because if you don’t, your efforts will become futile.

 

 

The Donut Dollies

This is a story that I came across just the other day that I found fascinating.

The story of the Donut Dollies, and their roles throughout wartime in United States history.

The history begins in World War II that the United States Armed Forces asked the American Red Cross to set up assistance to its troops. These were women who volunteered to make, prepare, and serve coffee and donuts to men on the frontlines of battle.

The name “Donut Dollies” stuck, but their roles in other wars changed.

They served later in Korea, and most notably in Vietnam.

The women who volunteered through the American Red Cross had to be at least 21 years of age, have graduated college, and unmarried. They were trained for several weeks and then taken over to where there troops were at that time.

During the Vietnam War, their jobs consisted of setting up recreational buildings. While wearing their powder blue dresses, they provided assistance for USO shows, played board and card games with the troops, and overall gave them moral support when other soldiers were killed or injured in the line of duty.  Some articles that I read, said that they were there when the troops would receive and read “Dear John” letters from back home, and they would be a soldier’s shoulder to cry upon.

Even though their job was to be there for the troops and always have a friendly smile on their faces, it didn’t come without its dangers. There are documented reports that some Donut Dollies were killed in Vietnam. There is a place in Washington D.C. that honor those who were lost. And the Donut Dollies are  considered by the United States Armed Forces as veterans of the Vietnam War. Even though they did not engage in any fighting, they still were there alongside the troops on the battlefield in camps and military bases all over the world. 

Many have said that they had not suffered any sexual misconduct from the troops. Sexual harassment and assault from the troops were virtually non-existent.

After the war, they had their own hardships that was very similar to what the troops had endured.

And now, several decades later, those who are still around actually get together and meet with one another at many Donut Dollies reunions each year.

 

 

 

 

 

Success Through Encouragement

“Correction does much, but encouragement does more.”~
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Some would argue that I become fascinated with the smallest of things in life. Others would say that I don’t become stimulated enough when certain situations come my way.

We all have our own little things that cause our happiness and and our sorrows.

Through the blog though, there are definite factors that I notice that actually makes me stop and believe that I just might be doing something, and doing it well. Encouragement is one of those things.

WordPress now has something that they like to call “badges”. I got my first one last week. Throughout this entire blog, I had received my 50th “like” to a blog post. I honestly had no clue that throughout the pages of blog posts that I have written over time that I actually had that many individual “likes” to specific blog posts. And its spread out, indiscriminately from post to post.

I then went to see my blog stats. Today, I have over 17,500 views since the beginning. That too, is something that I have always found encouraging. And it shows in a  few blog posts when I have written about how excited I was to have reached a certain number of total views.

Especially after months and months of self-doubt that “anyone was paying attention” to the blog, regardless of how many people were either following or subscribed. I do sometimes, write with those people in mind though. Often, I never think about those who are the silent readers or those who are looking for a specific topic and stumble across my blog. Thus, the entire advantage of using “tags” because it does work!

Yet with being unsure of either the success of the blog, or lack of the definition of “success”. Or it just might be the insecurity within myself that would lead to the doubt.

What has always worked for me in the past, is the feedback. I know from receiving both negative and positive feedback where I should focus attention or begin to work on other things to make things even better and more enjoyable for anyone who may be reading.

I think what I find interesting and just a little funny are those who end up giving feedback without them knowing that’s what they are doing. Their admitting to have read my blog or certain blog posts is sometimes just enough to know that I want to continue writing. Some (or most) having something comical or funny to say about what they had read or how they enjoyed the stories of experiences in my life that I often include in my blog.

And yes, some even admitting to the fact that they like the eye candy that often comes along with my blog posts. An effort that I started in order to gain the attention of male readers once I learned that a large percentage of readers, subscribers, and followers were actually female. I knew that I was taking a bit of a risk with female readers by including such images, and hoping not to offend… I think so far, I have been able to accomplish that.

Perhaps I am sounding like I am making excuses. But that isn’t what I am striving for.

When a person tells me in one way or another that they’ve read my blog… it is totally encouraging for me to keep it up and keep going.

This morning, I received feedback. It caused a glow to my heart in a sense. They said:

“You are an amazing writer.  I love how you talk to the reader as if they are sitting at the table with you in conversation.  Which is what a good writer does.”

I didn’t know what to say, other than to thank them for their words. And with those words, that was even more encouragement for me to continue what I am doing. I don’t get that every day, and neither do I expect it. But once it is offered, I definitely ponder it.

I used to think that the more subscribers and followers that I had meant that I was having more and more success. But honestly, success is defined in so many different ways that one specific definition can’t hold up. So… that means that I have to define for myself whether or not I am being successful in what I am doing.

If I have helped someone in some way and they’ve learned … that is success.

If I have shared a life experience, and they have laughed until they cried… that is success.

If I caused someone to smile, and they haven’t done that in a long time… that is success.

And that is just how “I” measure my own success with this blog. With that success, I am honestly grateful and appreciative of those who do read, comment, “like”, follow, subscribe, and leave me feedback. Without all of it, I probably would have quit a long time ago. Thank you for being the encouraging support in this continuing endeavor.

CAT FIGHT!!!!

“No matter how much cats fight, there always seem to be plenty of kittens.”~ Abraham Lincoln

 

So I’ve held on to this story for a while now, a couple of weeks. I’m not too entirely sure why as I know that some might find the tale rather interesting.

 

Other times when I have thought about writing it, I was always interrupted. So I locked the door, unplugged the telephone, and have tossed the cell phone into the toilet.

 

Never in my lifetime to this point did I think that I would actually be an eyewitness to an actual “cat fight”. But it did happen, and within the walls of my own home.

 

I had a nurse coming by to check on me that day. That still is full swing, although sadly the physical therapy is not.

 

But I had also set up services with a second home agency. And that second agency was to be responsible for hiring an attendant to help me with those personal needs that I am unable to take care of myself in my home. And not so much the medical side of things which require attention.

 

Because of the fact that the second agency had nobody to hire right away, they were insisting on sending people to my home to help get a start on things. And boy, did I need that!!

 

My only problem was that one day…. I was not told that anyone was coming. With the nurse already in place, it set the stage for the entertainment purposes of this blog post.

 

The nurse from the first agency has actually stood in my home and called the other agency to find out what was going on, building on the desperate “need” that I had to get someone to even come out. Weeks prior she had begun to get frustrated with this second agency that nobody was coming out to help at all.

 

The surprise visit of this “specialist” coming to help clean and do laundry and what not during the same time of this “go-get-em” nurse was rather explosive.

 

The nurse began to jump down the throat of this particular volunteer. She said that she had been here about a week before, but they had sent so many people in and out that I couldn’t remember them all.

 

The nurse got on to her and started talking about how poor this second agency has become. She focused on the fact that the agency and its workers failed at communicating with themselves and their clients. She went deeper to even explain it that nobody within the agency knows how to pick up a telephone to tell the clients which day they will and will not be there. On and on and on.

 

The woman just sat there stunned. Each and every time the nurse would speak she would point the finger directly at this woman. But when the woman would respond, she would look at me and not the accusing nurse.

 

I would have to say that I fully agreed with what the nurse was saying. I was surprised that the nurse didn’t start yelling and screaming and carrying on. The accused sat there frozen on my couch.

 

Then one word was uttered by the woman who sat so still: “Bitch.”

 

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd in this corner…. DING! DING! DING! DING!!

 

They both moved at each other at the same time, grabbing and swinging and everything a person could imagine. I had two professionals from two separate agencies at each other’s throat. ALL professionalisms were out the window.

 

It went on for several minutes before I actually had to somehow get in between them and break it up. Dangerous. I’m not sure how I am surviving today to be honest.

 

Men: NEVER attempt to break up a cat fight. You’ll get sucked into the whirlwind of it all.

 

The only reason why this was broken up so “easily” was at this altitude in a wheelchair, when I reached up to grab an arm and pull it away… I had misfired and instead grabbed a breast. Although by now I don’t remember which one. And I don’t want to, to be honest.

 

Once I got them separated, I told the “specialist” that I honestly had NOTHING for her to do that day and the nurse was SUPPOSED to be there so with those weighing factors, including the fact that she had started the confrontation, she had to leave.

 

The nurse gathered her things and prepared to do what she had to do and I walked the other one to the front door. I made sure to lock it behind her so there was no threat of her coming back for more. But I never did think to walk the nurse to her car, “just in case”.  Oh well. Lesson learned right there.

 

So there was no baby oil, chocolate pudding, or even mud. But the cat fight happened anyway. I knew that there would be someone who would just happen to walk by and then they would call the police and then EVERYONE would be in trouble and I did what I could to prevent it.

 

Never seen a cat fight until then. Hopefully I never will again. Unless I’m kidnapped by my friends and they make me pay a $20 cover charge to get into somewhere. And then… just maybe then…. there will be baby oil, chocolate pudding, or mud.

 

 

Disasters Of Distraction

 

“Girls were always my biggest distraction in school.”~  Channing Tatum

 

Happy Friday, everybody! Or around here: “Coffee & Donuts Day”.

 

Each and every Friday morning, I am filled with curiosity to see just what kind of behavior will be exhibited by those wanting donuts. It always varies depending on who is there. But this morning was a bit different. But I figured that it would be particularly interesting considering how greedy these neighbors showed off during Food Pantry Day just a couple days ago.

 

The van in which contained those neighbors who went walking for excercise (as well as carried the donuts) broke down. It caused a great delay for a lot of people. But surprisingly enough, everyone was calm. Nobody was throwing a tantrum about the tardiness of the weekly donut distribution.

 

But coffee was readily available. To which I had consumed numerous cups. However, what goes in must come out. Particularly of the liquid variety.

 

“Holding it” was not an option.

 

I returned to evacuate my bladder in the privacy of my own home. I began to believe that as soon a I left the building, the donuts would arrive. And with the group of people who had been already waiting there, nobody could say for sure if there would be anything left.

 

But I did what I had to do and then went on my journey back to the community room to seek the answer to the burning question.

 

My home is at the top of a hill. To get to the community room, I must negotiate a slight turn in the middle of four sidewalks that cross one another and still manage the incline and watch my speed so I don’t run over anyone.

 

As I was beginning to build up speed, I was distracted by something out of the corner of my eye. A woman was walking on the property that I had never seen before. Wouldn’t you know it, I looked up and over the back of my shoulder as I had to maintain speed and get around that slight turn.

 

My distraction would get the best of me as I did not slow down enough to take the slight turn and stay on the sidewalk. Because I simply wasn’t paying any attention to where I was.

 

The woman that I had been staring at disappeared in a flash as I felt the wheelchair began to lean heavily to one side. I looked forward and I could feel myself going at an angle to my left.

 

I knew what was going to happen and there was not a lot that I could do. I tipped over and got dumped out of my wheelchair to the left side. My body tumbling like a circus performer before I stuck the landing on my butt in the grass. The wheelchair now empty…. simply tossed to the side.

 

I’m physically fine. I don’t even have any scrapes or cuts or anything. Nothing broken, nothing bruised. Well, maybe my own personal ego…. but only a little bit.

 

That’s what I get for not paying attention to what I was doing. Rather than doing something that I do dozens of times a day for the past several years, but instead I focused on something (or someone) else which caused the “crash and burn”.

 

When these kinds of things happen, I find myself to hit the dirt and the first thing that I always do is look around to see if anyone might have seen it. Nine times out of ten there isn’t anyone around. So the humiliation factor goes to nothing.

 

I lifted up my wheelchair and then climbed back into it. I soared down the rest of the hill and turned into the community room where there was only four donuts left. I was shocked that they were not all gone.

 

I had eaten my donut and came back home so I can get ready for the day. But still had to blog about it while it was still fresh in my mind. Someone is going to need a laugh today, and find this funny.

 

 

 

 

The Reign of Rude

“Because I remember, I despair. Because I remember, I have the duty to reject despair.”~Elie Wiesel

 

Ladies and gentlemen! Subscribers, followers, and readers…. here we go again!!

 

What day is it? Yep! Food Pantry Day.

 

Most of our usual suspects were there. One of the worst offenders was ironically not there. But the rest of them were.

 

One had even turned so greedy that when she helped out earlier in the morning to put everything in place after bringing it home, she came back in the afternoon and dared to try to go for a second round.

 

I’m telling you, these residents have got some SERIOUS issues!!

 

But today, we had a new player in the drama that is the avarice of Food Pantry Day. One who has been unfortunately burning her own bridges with her neighbors and other residents. I had forgotten just how much of a problem a person could have with her.

 

It is up to the social worker and her decisions on whether or not someone can go ahead and get their turn in early. Commonly, she’s been allowing those who carry heavy boxes of food in to take their turn first before the rest of the crowd. And it is just her way of saying “thank you” for all of their help and assistance.

 

I was surprised when I “showed up for duty” this afternoon that one of the offenders had helped and therefore our poor social worker was puzzled as to why she was back.

 

Playing dumb like you don’t understand English……. for the win!!!!

 

But this new player into today’s BS drama…. let’s just say that a lot of people believe that we can do without. And that’s a real sad thing to say or even believe.

 

Every time I called someone ELSE to go into the Food Pantry, there was always commentary. There was always some kind of remark about how SHE NEEDED to be next in line. And every time she was not… I got to hear about it.

 

The premise is nothing new, just the characters.

 

And then I started to get it from another resident, but I did not find their remarks as abrasive. So I felt comfortable teasing back that I had control over everything and if they kept it up, I’d never call their name.

 

So then our offender from hell just turned up the heat.

 

I finally just looked to see if I could find her name in the lottery box. And I could not. I was absolutely stunned that it was not in the box, and she’s got the nerve to crawl up and down my back??

 

Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot. Over!!

 

I told the social worker the situation about how that resident’s name was not there in the box. I wondered if I should have just left her to suffer the consequences of her actions, or bring it to her attention and go from there.

 

So I pulled out all of the pieces of paper and spread them out on the table before me. Then I still could not find her name. At that point, I called her over to me.

 

I asked her, “Do you see your name anywhere?”. Then without hesitation, the woman became infuriated by the fact that the piece of paper that her had name on it was next to the box haphazardly, and was nowhere near being inside the box.

 

I simply didn’t see it there. Countless minutes of useless agitation and there she is accusing me of pulling her name out of the box so that I did not have to call her name to go into the Food Pantry. And I had done all of this on purpose to hurt her.

 

Ohhhhhhhhhhh the sore humanity of it all!!

 

So then I hear her scream, “That’s just wrong! I’M NEXT!!”.

 

Umm, no you are NOT!! I put her name back in the box and shook the demons out of it and pulled a name, that was yet again still not hers.

 

Then she asked if she was next. And I told her with a straight face that she was not. And that caused more “Oh Woe Is Me” crap. So I was so happy that she was actually (and legitimately) the next person after that to go in. Only to get rid of her.

 

I don’t play favorites and I never will. It is a different circumstance if the social worker makes a plea to send someone in ahead of the crowd, due to whatever reason. I just go by what she says.

 

Meanwhile, out in the hallway was roaming Miss “I Don’t Speak English”.. getting more and more concerned as I never called her name. I didn’t have to. She had her turn this morning when she helped out.

 

And then I would eventually “leave my post” and have the box unattended. And she went through it to see that there were no more papers in it. By that time there were only three people left and I pulled them out in no particular order and knew who was first, second, and third.

 

After that (in broken English… more like shattered), she asked me why her name was not in the box. I did my best to speak in smaller words saying that she had her turn in the morning.

 

She ignored me.

 

She then would see a resident hanging around the door of the Food Pantry and when that woman immediately strolled in, our little greedy one decided to park it there. She’s not stupid by any stretch of the imagination.

 

The real person that would be next would be invaded upon and then it was time to RING THE BELL!!!

 

Our greedy one rolled inside and words were spoken by the one whom she had transgressed against.

 

Then in an effort of wanting peace, she retreated her anger and the two left standing in line just moved out of the way and allowed her inside. She would end up coming out with just a few cans of food and maybe a couple bags of beans. Nothing major. Its not like she broke the bank or anything. Everyone gets the same thing. Unless you recall the strawberry flavored milk debacle in a previous blog post.

 

After the last two went in, I came straight home.

 

Luckily I didn’t snap. But I am sure exhausted.

 

I’m irritated by the fact that people have the guts to accuse me of doing things that I never did. I can see how maybe she might have felt that way. However, I never got the benefit of the doubt. What she saw (or thought what had happened) was automatically LAW??

 

Screw that.

 

It’s over for today, and this month. And people snicker when I call it “my time of the month”. I wonder if they actually get it or not. Because one thing is for sure, the residents here sure don’t.

 

I just wanted to come home and scream. People are most likely lucky I didn’t do that either. I’m sure the police would have been alerted.

 

UGH!!

 

 

 

 

 

Mall Mystery Woman

“Any genuine philosophy leads to action and from action back again to wonder, to the enduring fact of mystery.”~ Henry Miller

Last November, I would fall upon a mystery that still has not been solved. This blog post is the very long and detailed story and the follow-up.

From the time that the sledge hockey team was on the road for the very first time in the program’s history, having that opportunity to go somewhere else and play, we found ourselves in Houston. We played for many hours in just over 27 hours and did all of that and came home.

Being that the second day of playing would lead us to our first visit to Ice Skate USA, inside of a shopping mall.

We had time between games and so the team stayed in the mall and took the time to look around, walk through places, and get something to eat at the food court.

Then it began. The true mystery that has been keeping me in the dark for months now.

A woman caught my eye. She looked at me and smiled so sweetly and waved doing that finger rolling kind of wave. Then as she passed by, she mouthed the words “hi there!” and continued on. It hit me like a ton of brick dust.

Her bright smile, her long wavy red hair, and her constant desire to wave wiggling her finger tips whenever she saw me inside the mall completely had my senses going at the speed of light.

She was working there as a train conductor. A fun ride for the children up to a certain height and/or their parents. And a quick lap or two and back again. And that is why I saw her in all kinds of different places throughout this shopping mall. Each time and without fail, if she saw me… she smiled really big and waved in the same fashion. And it was several times, not just two or three.

Could be that she suddenly was interested? What is going on with that wave? Does she always wave like that to people?  Or was it a case of her just being friendly, polite, and warm?? What the heck was going on???

I sat there with my thoughts, knowing I still had about a half an hour to kill in the mall before leaving to go to my next hockey match. And then I said to myself, “Screw this! I’m going to go talk to her!!”.

I knew that my history of speaking to women was less than admirable and would never be considered to go down into the history books . That and being full of shyness. But in this case I felt that I had absolutely nothing to lose by going over and saying “hello”.

I figured that if it turned out to be a disaster that because of the fact that I was from out of town, that I most likely would never see her again. But I never considered what would happen if I did speak to her and things went over well. I mean after all, every time I saw her, she waved and smiled really big.

I went over to the side of the shopping mall where this train that she was driving would start and stop. A nice mural painted on the wall to give a feeling of a train depot from long ago, complete with boardwalk.

But the train was not there. She was on the move somewhere. But the mall was so big, and I was honestly tired from the hockey, so I didn’t go after her or try to hunt her down.

It would seem like an eternity as I played “Beat the clock before I have to leave”. And after what was even longer of an eternity, finally I heard the dinging of the bell and cry of the whistle and I was right in her path!!

So in order to avoid being ran over by something that was probably going less than 2 MPH, I backed off. But I was actually close enough to her that I could have extended my arm and touched her.

As she rolled by, she saw me again. I caught her in the middle of eating a snack, and she still waved at me in the same manner, even though her snack food was between her fingers and she smiled. Giggling to herself that I caught her with food in her mouth as she grinned as best possible.

I patiently waited for her to stop the train and begin the process of letting parents and children off the ride. And then I was going to make my move and at very least…  say hello.

It would not happen.

The ultimate definition of the “cock block” came into play when a teammate of mine poked me in the arm and started asking questions about what I was doing and when I was leaving the mall to go play our next match and with whom I was going with.

Mindless chatter and absolutely nothing too important for him to be asking about. Just general FYI stuff. But each and every second was counting and unfortunately ticking away.

I had to be a little rude to him by saying that I was about to “go talk to a girl” and I wanted to do it before we had to leave. Eventually he got the point and left me alone. But like I said, this would not happen for me.

When this woman left with another round of parents and children, I waved and she smiled and waved back. But I could no longer afford to wait for her to return.

Waving like an idiot and over-emphasizing it was all I could do. And even though the train was moving as slow as mud, there were too many people in the mall walking around that I couldn’t just roll up along side her and have a conversation as she moved around the building and doing all of it before I had to leave.

I was out of time.

So then, it was time for Operation: Hope That We Get Invited Back Again To Play Sledge Hockey At The Same Rink In The Future So I Could See Her Again.

It would happen, in March of this year. Well, the invitation to play again.

A few players from my team went to Houston to scrimmage, and formulate plans for our upcoming tournament. After it was all said and done, I bolted like lightning over to the “train depot”, only to find nobody working there.

A few minutes later, the train was in action, but it was not the same wavy redhead with the gorgeous smile. She wasn’t there. And our team returned home just as quickly as we had arrived. All in one day.

It would be six full months before I would return to Houston AND see her again, all in the same trip. And that was during the Paralympic Sport Experience that I wrote about in my previous blog.

Same ice rink, same mall…. an opportunity had come. But I didn’t have a lot of time for chit-chat. Again, tired from the hockey, hungry, thirsty, and everything else in between.

But I did it. I went over there and I just started to watch for the perfect moment to say something to her while she loaded and unloaded her passengers. I would soon learn that she had her job down to a near science.

Stop. Unload. Receive money for tickets. Load passengers. Hand out tickets. Go.

The best I did at that point was take a few pictures of her. Unfortunately I understand that from a person’s viewpoint, it does look a bit creepy because in one photograph her back was turned. To be brutally honest, she was looking in my direction and turned around at the last second before the camera took the photograph. My fingers can be so slow when it comes to photography. Or at least my reaction time stinks!!

But the flash went off and she definitely noticed it. She saw me there, camera in my hand and just giggled and smiled and waved yet again.

I wondered why in the world I was sitting there, so I approached her. Her routine was very quick as she moved people on and off. I didn’t think that I was going to get a lot of conversation in. Even though I was aware that yes… this IS her job!! And her loitering could get her fired. I didn’t want to do that.

I really did surprise myself that she was actually beginning to multi-task with me while working. From moment to moment, I would back off so she could deal with her customers. Then I would start talking again.

The end result was that I asked her if I could get another photograph of her, basically asking her permission. She agreed.

Then she went over to one of the children in the lead car and was playful with him. It was a pretty safe bet that this child might have been hers. But I noticed an older gentleman sitting next to him, and then another child.

I asked if that was her family and she said, “That is my son.” Then we took a picture together, capturing that glorious smile of hers.

I could feel the bullets flying overhead, narrowly missing my face as she never mentioned “that’s my husband/boyfriend/whatever”. I believe that if she would have admitted to being married or taken or whatever else have you, that I would have felt all of it to be in vain without thinking clearly at the possibility of the genesis of a new friendship. Even if I was still living far, far away.

I explained that I was in town for the hockey and I would be in and out of Houston for a while. (Both for sledge hockey and for SIX MINUTE CENTURY). And I mentioned that I just might be living there one day.

Then… and I don’t know why… and ONLY then did I introduce myself by first name only. She reciprocated with the same politeness and personal information. I shook her hand and gave her my card.

The nerves finally came to the surface as I began to shudder and fumble my own speech as I encouraged her to either send me an e-mail or find me on Facebook. Her reply was “Okay sure.” Then I watched as she stuffed my personal card down the front of her conductor’s overalls.

I repeated her name to make sure I heard her right and again she reciprocated the action. I’ve read online articles about what that means when women do that…. could it be true???

I bid her farewell. And she said, “Nice to meet you. Welcome to Houston”.

Then I left, sharing the tale of what just transpired to anyone that would frickin’ listen. Later on, I would end up going into the food court and joining my team for a little hanging out time and rest before we went to check into our hotel. 

I kept looking at my camera numerous times at the few photographs that I had taken and suddenly very eager to get back home. Plus I wouldn’t stop talking about the “success” I had and I could not believe how “easy” it was to have done what I did do.

When we finally left the mall for good, we passed by and I went over towards the “depot” but kept my distance again. Our eyes locked and I waved and she waved back. Then I just turned around and left, not knowing if her eyes were burning through the back of my head as I rolled away.

I think my teammates wanted to throw me out into the streets and have me wheel home because I wouldn’t shut up about it.

But the following morning meant more hockey, and I would have to wait before I came home to even see if she had e-mailed, called, or found me on Facebook.

So far to the point of the writing of this post… she has not.

I do realize that my 500 business cards that I ordered was meant expressly for the promotion of sledge hockey and possibly earn donations or even attract some people to join our team and enjoy the sport as much as the rest of the team enjoys it. But many times, I have also given those cards out to women that I found interesting.

Sad to say that the history of my card distribution has had zero results. So in a way, I could say that the odds are against me for this woman to contact me. Of course I met her at her job, and she does have a small child so life could be pretty busy for her. I can only keep optimistic and cross my fingers that she does contact me in some manner.

I can’t say for sure, nor would I want to say what will happen. Positivity is key. One simply never really knows.

The first layer of the onion mystery is gone now though. I know what her first name is, and I know that she has a son. Nothing more… the mystery continues and I intend to pursue until it is done.