And now a Special Hallmark Presentation....
Just Kidding.
Her name was Polly. I think. She was about 5'9 and 190 lbs with short brown hair and a VERY LOUD voice. I met her a couple of years ago at a Singles Ward FHE (note: Singles' Wards hold FHE in a futile attempt to recreate the family unit for those without family members in the vicinity...it is also an excuse for Bishops to toy with their members and try to pair young singles off in an effort to obey the commandment of replenishing the earth...I'm also pretty sure that the Bishops in Utah hold a contest to see whom can have the most weddings of ward members in a Semester...I think they win a mini van or something)
Anyway, I first noticed Polly standing off in the corner of the Bishop's home (where we were holding FHE) talking to Tricia (another girl in our ward). Not knowing who she was I asked Alicia my roommate and a counselor in the RSP if she knew who the new chick was. Alicia gives me this pained look and said,
"Yeah. Her name's Polly..I gave her a ride to FHE tonight."
"Oh so she lives with Tricia and those girls huh?"
"No she's just staying there for a week until she moves back to California for the summer."
"OOOOOH. So she's just a squatter...she's not actually in the ward."
"No."
After having established that I didn't have to actually talk to her (cause she was loud and I didn't want to have to get involved and make an emotional commitment to a loud close talker) I went about my business and talked to the Bishop about sending flowers to a girl in our ward whose father had passed away a couple of days ago.
After an hour of useless small talk Alicia and I decided we were bored and had had enough of pointless conversation so it was time to go home. She looked at me and said,
"Let me go get those girls and see if they still want to ride home with me."
They did. I figured this wouldn't be all that bad because most people realize that in compact environments the level and pitch of your voice can be lowered dramatically and people will still be able to hear you completely.
Polly had apparently never been informed of this modern monday miracle and so her volume of conversation did not lower one bit.
So while driving home in Alicia's Neon I politely asked Polly when she was getting married...she was practically wearing a skating rink on her finger...and she informed me that it was fake and she didn't want to talk to any boys that night so it had been an attempt to thwart any singles advances. A futile attempt she informed us because Caleb had still talked to her.
Now I must interject on Caleb's behalf. Caleb just moved into the ward....he's new..from Idaho...and has a cute little girlfriend. Earlier that evening both Alicia and I had commented (ok thats a nice way of saying mocked) on the fact that Polly was openly flirting with a guy who was already taken and obviously not really interested in what she was saying to him...that or he had lost all hearing and was merely nodding, eyes blank and lifeless out of shere politeness.
So while she yelled on and on about how much Caleb must like her, Alicia and I muttered things in spanish about how crazy she was....because they didn't understand spanish and I now know enough to mock and deride.
At the end of her sound barrier breaking monologue she did admit to having a boyfriend but he lived in California and that was the reason she was going there for the summer. Alicia then interjected and said,
"I thought you told me you didn't have a boyfriend."
Polly laughed and screamed,
"I also told you that I was an illegal immigrant from Mexico"
Alicia and I just kind of looked at each other figuring this girl was more than likely a pathalogical liar.
We pulled up to a stoplight at which point this Polly chick began catcalling at the guy in the car next to us...a wise choice on her part because as we all know 16 year old Pizza delivery boys are in high demand. I shrunk down in my seat and Alicia seethed in the seat next to me.
We then mocked her for flirting with a deacon. And told her that her Cali boyfriend would be jealous.
As we were finally pulling up to Polly and Tricia's house....Polly looked over at Alicia and asked if she was doing anything on Friday...Alicia just looked at her and said "Friday night?" and Polly said "No more like 7 am Friday morning...I need a ride to the airport." I'm pretty sure Alicia's eyebrows flew off her head and are now in Nebraska. She told Polly that she was sorry but she couldn't give her a ride because she had to be at work every morning at 8 am. Polly screeched "Thats too bad...cause you're like the only person I know with a car"
Alicia said, "Yeah....sorry."
Which she wasn't.
And that was the end of Polly.
Note: I could have inserted many "Polly wanna a cracker" comments but controlled myself believing that this would have been mildly funny but also highly corny.
Another Story from my Single Days:
Weird people seem to be drawn to me as moths to a flame, so I probably shouldn't have been surprised by Peter Olsen. (Note: in my experience the name Peter seems to carry with it a tendancy towards the weird and obtrusive) You see a couple of years ago I decided that I didn't need a social life anymore so I got a second job and began working strenuous 16 hour days. I would work from 8 until 4 at NuSkin and then go to my next job as a telemarketer (which in and of itself caused inner turmoil due to the fact that I hate telemarketers and therefore found myself hating myself) at MyFamily.com from 4:30 until 12:30. Anyway, it was during the first week of working there....though I only worked there for 15 days...that Peter sat down next to me one evening. I was busy trying to talk an uninterested elderly person into buying a subscription to Ancestry.com when Peter announced, "Its so hard to communicate with others when you have an IQ of 135." I should probably describe this Peter Olsen guy for you...he was about 6 feet tall, probably 180 lbs., 18-20 years old and looked like a very unattractive Harry Potter with an acne problem. At the time that he made this announcement the elderly woman that I was talking to hung up on me (I blame only myself)....so I turned to him and said, "You should try having an IQ of 170." I thought this was funny....he didn't...instead he responded by saying and I quote, "Oh so you have a high IQ too...do find yourself having to lower your verbal diatribe in the hopeful efforts of having people understand you?" I looked at him and said, "Ummmm no. But I don't usually open a conversation by openly flaunting a debatable measure of my intelligence while insulting the other party." (Yes I actually said that...college taught me how to use big words and everything) And then I turned around hoping to dam the gates of this useless conversation. He then felt it necessary to tap me on the shoulder and introduce himself, "My name's Peter. Do you like Charmed?" (For those of an older generation Charmed is a show on the WB involving scantily clad women witches fighting the bitter fight against demons and evil) I turned back around and said, "I don't have a lot of time for TV" He felt this denoted an interest on my part in actually participating in a conversation because he continued, "Oh well look what I just got on Ebay...an autographed picture of Alyssa Milano for only 80 dollars."
"Thats nice," I said.
"I'm going to hang it up in my room along with my other pictures of her and the rest of the Charmed cast."
"Thats nice."
"Do you like Animae?"
"No"
"Well I just got a great deal on a whole bunch of trading cards."
"Thats nice."
"I plan on selling them in about ten years because they're going to be worth thousands."
"Thats nice."
"My parents think its a waste of my money to buy all these pictures and cards but I like to look at them so I don't really care what they think...they were going to kick me out of the house."
"Thats nice."
"Yeah me and my parents don't get along very good (sic...he actually it just like this)."
"Thats sad."
"You know what I don't understand about girls?"
"Everything?"
"No I get some things...but what I don't get is why all the attractive girls go out with the stupid jocks who can't carry on a decent conversation or compute simple mathmatical equations."
"Girls don't like to talk and they don't like math." I said this in a way I would have thought a deaf man would have heard the sarcasm...but no.
"Girls do to like to talk."
"I was kidding...but frankly and I can't speak for the whole feminine gender but I like guys who are reasonably intelligent and can add and subtract."
"Then how come all the girls I ask out say no? Did you know I had to ask out six girls before I got one to go with me to Prom?"
"Ummm no I didn't know that. "
"Well I did."
"Did you ask nicely?"
"Yes."
"Did you ask them in front of a whole bunch of other girls?"
"No."
"Had you ever talked to these girls before?"
"Yes."
"Have you ever killed anybody?"
Once again I was joking...but he didn't think it was very funny. I knew this because he stood up and started yelling at me,
"THEY ACCUSED ME OF TRYING TO KILL SOMEBODY BUT I DIDN'T!!! I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THERE WAS A RESTRAINING ORDER AGAINST ME! I THOUGHT SHE LIKED ME!! IT WASN'T MY FAULT!"
I just kinda sat there and looked at him...irate screaming people don't really have a huge effect on me anymore because I got yelled at a lot at my old job...but all around me guys were starting to stand up and come towards us thinking they were going to save me from this obvious loon.
"Ok you really need to calm down there sparky, I was kidding."
He sat down and just kinda looked around and said, "Sorry I just don't like people accusing me of things."
"Number one I wasn't accusing you and number two I don't talk to people who yell at me." And then I turned around; the guys who had been coming to save me looked at me with eyebrows raised wondering if everything was alright so I just waved and smiled and they sat back down in their little cubicle. About ten minutes later Peter Olsen turned around again and tapped me on the shoulder and said,
"So you wanna go out sometime?"
This story was completely true...none of it was made up...I turned him down politely and never sat next to him again.
Weird people seem to be drawn to me as moths to a flame, so I probably shouldn't have been surprised by Peter Olsen. (Note: in my experience the name Peter seems to carry with it a tendancy towards the weird and obtrusive) You see a couple of years ago I decided that I didn't need a social life anymore so I got a second job and began working strenuous 16 hour days. I would work from 8 until 4 at NuSkin and then go to my next job as a telemarketer (which in and of itself caused inner turmoil due to the fact that I hate telemarketers and therefore found myself hating myself) at MyFamily.com from 4:30 until 12:30. Anyway, it was during the first week of working there....though I only worked there for 15 days...that Peter sat down next to me one evening. I was busy trying to talk an uninterested elderly person into buying a subscription to Ancestry.com when Peter announced, "Its so hard to communicate with others when you have an IQ of 135." I should probably describe this Peter Olsen guy for you...he was about 6 feet tall, probably 180 lbs., 18-20 years old and looked like a very unattractive Harry Potter with an acne problem. At the time that he made this announcement the elderly woman that I was talking to hung up on me (I blame only myself)....so I turned to him and said, "You should try having an IQ of 170." I thought this was funny....he didn't...instead he responded by saying and I quote, "Oh so you have a high IQ too...do find yourself having to lower your verbal diatribe in the hopeful efforts of having people understand you?" I looked at him and said, "Ummmm no. But I don't usually open a conversation by openly flaunting a debatable measure of my intelligence while insulting the other party." (Yes I actually said that...college taught me how to use big words and everything) And then I turned around hoping to dam the gates of this useless conversation. He then felt it necessary to tap me on the shoulder and introduce himself, "My name's Peter. Do you like Charmed?" (For those of an older generation Charmed is a show on the WB involving scantily clad women witches fighting the bitter fight against demons and evil) I turned back around and said, "I don't have a lot of time for TV" He felt this denoted an interest on my part in actually participating in a conversation because he continued, "Oh well look what I just got on Ebay...an autographed picture of Alyssa Milano for only 80 dollars."
"Thats nice," I said.
"I'm going to hang it up in my room along with my other pictures of her and the rest of the Charmed cast."
"Thats nice."
"Do you like Animae?"
"No"
"Well I just got a great deal on a whole bunch of trading cards."
"Thats nice."
"I plan on selling them in about ten years because they're going to be worth thousands."
"Thats nice."
"My parents think its a waste of my money to buy all these pictures and cards but I like to look at them so I don't really care what they think...they were going to kick me out of the house."
"Thats nice."
"Yeah me and my parents don't get along very good (sic...he actually it just like this)."
"Thats sad."
"You know what I don't understand about girls?"
"Everything?"
"No I get some things...but what I don't get is why all the attractive girls go out with the stupid jocks who can't carry on a decent conversation or compute simple mathmatical equations."
"Girls don't like to talk and they don't like math." I said this in a way I would have thought a deaf man would have heard the sarcasm...but no.
"Girls do to like to talk."
"I was kidding...but frankly and I can't speak for the whole feminine gender but I like guys who are reasonably intelligent and can add and subtract."
"Then how come all the girls I ask out say no? Did you know I had to ask out six girls before I got one to go with me to Prom?"
"Ummm no I didn't know that. "
"Well I did."
"Did you ask nicely?"
"Yes."
"Did you ask them in front of a whole bunch of other girls?"
"No."
"Had you ever talked to these girls before?"
"Yes."
"Have you ever killed anybody?"
Once again I was joking...but he didn't think it was very funny. I knew this because he stood up and started yelling at me,
"THEY ACCUSED ME OF TRYING TO KILL SOMEBODY BUT I DIDN'T!!! I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THERE WAS A RESTRAINING ORDER AGAINST ME! I THOUGHT SHE LIKED ME!! IT WASN'T MY FAULT!"
I just kinda sat there and looked at him...irate screaming people don't really have a huge effect on me anymore because I got yelled at a lot at my old job...but all around me guys were starting to stand up and come towards us thinking they were going to save me from this obvious loon.
"Ok you really need to calm down there sparky, I was kidding."
He sat down and just kinda looked around and said, "Sorry I just don't like people accusing me of things."
"Number one I wasn't accusing you and number two I don't talk to people who yell at me." And then I turned around; the guys who had been coming to save me looked at me with eyebrows raised wondering if everything was alright so I just waved and smiled and they sat back down in their little cubicle. About ten minutes later Peter Olsen turned around again and tapped me on the shoulder and said,
"So you wanna go out sometime?"
This story was completely true...none of it was made up...I turned him down politely and never sat next to him again.
A True Story from my Single Days:
I have found that in the wee hours of the morning in those fitful minutes before sleep my mind begins to wander, perplexing matters become astonishingly clear, and random yet useless thoughts come to complete fruition. For instance a couple of years ago late at night at about 2:03 am I realized that "evil" spelled backwards is "live" and furthermore, "devil" spelled backwards is "lived." What this means I do not know but it is true nonetheless.
And it was during this time a couple of years ago that I came to the unmistakeable conclusion that my old boss at work, Dan, is a little slow. I will explain that in just a minute...but first I have to explain this....
As satirists my friends and I often see the humor in the littlest of human vices. For instance there's this club on campus aptly named the Quill and the Sword Club...they brandish swords and capes and run around attacking one another with unseen spells and powers they apparently have cards for...much like a concealed weapons license I'm sure...I once saw them attack a perfectly innocent bail of hay for no reason...why they did this I do not know...they're monsters I tell you...monsters...
Anyway, while attacking the aforementioned bail of hay they kept yelling HAZAA!!! This I found was extremely amusing and began using the word sarcastically whenever someone would remark on something that was supposed to be exciting but in reality wasn't....
For instance:
"Lindsey I get to babysit the Bailey kids tonight"
"Hazaa!'
"Guess what! Night Rider is now on DVD!"
"Hazaa!!"
"There's a new episode of Star Trek Voyager on Tonight!"
"Hazaa!!!"
I think you get the idea. And this word soon became a daily conversation constant among my friends and me.
Anyway so one day at work Dan...the boss man...looked up from his desk and said, "Hey guess what you get to fix 25 scanners tomorrow"
Without thinking I said, "Hazaa!"
He looked greatly confused for a minute then relinquished to admitting his small vernacular did not include that word and asked what it meant. In an effort to explain what the word meant and the underlying sarcastic tone included I explained that in the days of yore upon attacking moat surrounded castles the knights would yell the word Hazaa in an effort to lift the spirits of the dreary and mutilated soliders...and now my friends and I yelled it in sarcasm. He laughed still confused and said "That's cool I'll have to start using that word.
Let me now describe Dan, he's a thirtysomething rock star wannabe, he's in numerous bands and "plays gigs" on the weekends for fun. With bleached hair and standing at 6'4 he certainly stands out in a crowd.
Anyway the next day at work I finished fixing all those scanners and was putting the last scanner on the rack to be QA inspected (that stands for quality assured in case you didn't know) when Dan looks over at me and with a big smile yells...yes yelled...."Pazaa"
I look at him for a second stifling the overwhelming urge to laugh and said "I'm sorry?"
"Pazaa!" he yelled again, "You're done!"
I looked at him and said, "No No No. It's Hazaa"
"Oh!" he said still smiling, "Kazaa"
"What?" I said unbelieving that he had just yelled the name of a favorite downloading website instead of Hazaa.
"Kazaa!" he yelled again smile now gone and replaced with a look of confusion..."Thats right isn't it."
"No...thats where you can download music and books for a small fee on the internet. HAZAA....HHHHHH.....HHHHHH" I figured since the "H" sound is a voiceless glottal fricative he might be having a hard time hearing it so I emphasized the H sound...and felt entirely retarded doing so.
"Ohhhh....Hazaa" he finally said, "That's not a real word" he continued looking annoyed at his own inability to pronounce the useless word.
And then he walked away.
I have found that in the wee hours of the morning in those fitful minutes before sleep my mind begins to wander, perplexing matters become astonishingly clear, and random yet useless thoughts come to complete fruition. For instance a couple of years ago late at night at about 2:03 am I realized that "evil" spelled backwards is "live" and furthermore, "devil" spelled backwards is "lived." What this means I do not know but it is true nonetheless.
And it was during this time a couple of years ago that I came to the unmistakeable conclusion that my old boss at work, Dan, is a little slow. I will explain that in just a minute...but first I have to explain this....
As satirists my friends and I often see the humor in the littlest of human vices. For instance there's this club on campus aptly named the Quill and the Sword Club...they brandish swords and capes and run around attacking one another with unseen spells and powers they apparently have cards for...much like a concealed weapons license I'm sure...I once saw them attack a perfectly innocent bail of hay for no reason...why they did this I do not know...they're monsters I tell you...monsters...
Anyway, while attacking the aforementioned bail of hay they kept yelling HAZAA!!! This I found was extremely amusing and began using the word sarcastically whenever someone would remark on something that was supposed to be exciting but in reality wasn't....
For instance:
"Lindsey I get to babysit the Bailey kids tonight"
"Hazaa!'
"Guess what! Night Rider is now on DVD!"
"Hazaa!!"
"There's a new episode of Star Trek Voyager on Tonight!"
"Hazaa!!!"
I think you get the idea. And this word soon became a daily conversation constant among my friends and me.
Anyway so one day at work Dan...the boss man...looked up from his desk and said, "Hey guess what you get to fix 25 scanners tomorrow"
Without thinking I said, "Hazaa!"
He looked greatly confused for a minute then relinquished to admitting his small vernacular did not include that word and asked what it meant. In an effort to explain what the word meant and the underlying sarcastic tone included I explained that in the days of yore upon attacking moat surrounded castles the knights would yell the word Hazaa in an effort to lift the spirits of the dreary and mutilated soliders...and now my friends and I yelled it in sarcasm. He laughed still confused and said "That's cool I'll have to start using that word.
Let me now describe Dan, he's a thirtysomething rock star wannabe, he's in numerous bands and "plays gigs" on the weekends for fun. With bleached hair and standing at 6'4 he certainly stands out in a crowd.
Anyway the next day at work I finished fixing all those scanners and was putting the last scanner on the rack to be QA inspected (that stands for quality assured in case you didn't know) when Dan looks over at me and with a big smile yells...yes yelled...."Pazaa"
I look at him for a second stifling the overwhelming urge to laugh and said "I'm sorry?"
"Pazaa!" he yelled again, "You're done!"
I looked at him and said, "No No No. It's Hazaa"
"Oh!" he said still smiling, "Kazaa"
"What?" I said unbelieving that he had just yelled the name of a favorite downloading website instead of Hazaa.
"Kazaa!" he yelled again smile now gone and replaced with a look of confusion..."Thats right isn't it."
"No...thats where you can download music and books for a small fee on the internet. HAZAA....HHHHHH.....HHHHHH" I figured since the "H" sound is a voiceless glottal fricative he might be having a hard time hearing it so I emphasized the H sound...and felt entirely retarded doing so.
"Ohhhh....Hazaa" he finally said, "That's not a real word" he continued looking annoyed at his own inability to pronounce the useless word.
And then he walked away.
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