How Bizarre

It's been the weirdest day I've had in quite some time. After a while I just had to start writing down all the strange things that were happening, because there were so many of them. Here is an account of those things, starting when I got up this morning.

I fed the cat (Elsa) in my room. I had to keep her in here with her food, water and whatnot today, because my roommate (of only several months) was moving out. I didn't want her to run into the hallway while I was at work, because there's no way he would have been able to get her back into the apartment. So she ate a few bites, as is her way, and then I watched her walk over to my scale and climb onto it. I laughed pretty hard. (She didn't learn that from me, that's for damn sure.)

So after Elsa was safely stowed in my room, I went downstairs to leave for work and saw B at his rental truck. He didn't have much stuff to move, and this is the way we said goodbye:

B (standing at rental truck as I walked by on my way to the train): So I'll just...leave the keys on the table?
Me: Yeah, just leave them on the table. The door's closed, so you're okay. Later! *continues walking*

As I made my way toward the subway, there was this DOT truck driving slowly up and down the streets, with a man announcing from a loudspeaker: "IF YOU ARE PARKED ON 20TH AVENUE BETWEEN 31ST AND 38TH STREET, YOU WILL BE TOWED." This was at about 9:20 AM, and I wonder if anyone was woken up by it. Or if anyone got towed. I've never seen or heard this happen on my street before, so it was a little disorienting.

I got on the W and a few minutes after I sat down, a homeless man shuffled through asking for change, right before we left the Ditmars stop. It is, of course, not uncommon to see homeless people on the train, but it IS kind of uncommon at Ditmars. It's the last stop, so usually if you see them it's just when they're slumped in a corner, having fallen asleep at an earlier stop. They don't normally make it their business to travel TO Astoria. There aren't many homeless people in my area--or, if there are, they don't make their presence known very often. There is a guy you'd know if you live or have lived in the Ditmars area: the older guy who stands motionless and stares at his hands. Or sometimes he'll flap his arms and sing oldies songs. He's a familiar face in the Dit. He seems pretty harmless and he's never actually asked me for change. I'm not even positive he's homeless, he's just clearly not right mentally.

A few minutes later I watched a woman directly across from me spill almost an entire grande cup of steaming hot Starbucks tea onto the train floor. I don't know how it happened, I think she just lost her grip. It streamed in both directions across the entire car as the train stopped and started, and soaked the bottom of some guy's backpack next to her. She did apologize, and he didn't seem to mind much--it was an accident. But I can't say I would have reacted quite so nicely if it had been my bag. However, I don't keep my bag on the floor if I can help it. Pretty gross, when you think about it. Anyway, no tea for her, I guess.

The train proceeded to get stuck for five or ten minutes at 39th Ave, which also doesn't happen that often. Since I leave at about the same time every day with JUST enough time to make it to work, five or ten minutes can totally affect my commute. I just hate being late, that's all, even if it's just for something casual. You'd think I would adjust my routine to accomodate this idiosyncrasy, but you know me--always accessorizing or changing my hair at the last minute on my way out. So whatever. Train stuck--nothing to write home about, but grouped with all the rest of these things (and more to come), it just made the day nuttier.

On the 6 (which is notoriously cutthroat, awful, and packed in the mornings), I was minding my own business and listening to my iPod, as usual, when I heard an extremely loud argument break out behind me. My reaction to any kind of subway conflict is not to crane my neck and look; much the opposite. I act, as convincingly as I can, as if nothing is happening. I do everything in my power to shut it out. I don't know what happened back there but I DID hear the word "jealous", shouted alone and posed as a question (as if to say, "What? Are you JEALOUS?"). Everyone else in the car was looking that way--but conflict in a small space, in the minimum-security asylum that is NYC, makes me so uncomfortable that I can't bring myself to be nosy. Besides, you never know what someone has on them, and making eye contact could very well be asking for trouble. I'm not saying NYC constantly scares me, I'm saying it's best not to get involved.

This brings me to the next freak incident: I was up at the front of the restaurant, bustling around and getting ready for the lunch shift. The rest of my co-workers were toward the back, filling bottles and cleaning tables and what have you. I saw someone try to open the locked front door of the restaurant and directed him to go around, where we can buzz people in. I went to let him in and he'd already gotten in (someone had left the door propped open), and asked him if I could help him. We're taught, at our restaurant, to be courteous to everyone that comes in, no matter what. It could be a friend of someone important, after all, or just a curious guest. Lots and lots of people have appointments with the management team, and I figured he must have one. Our interaction went a little something like this.

Me: Can I help you?
Creepy, bum-like man who is missing a tooth in front, on the bottom row: Yeah, I wanted to speak to your manager.
Me: Okay, and what is this in reference to?
Creepy: (slightly insulted) I'm a chemical salesman.
Me (having developed a highly-tuned sense for who is and isn't someone a manager would want to speak to, and a spiel to deflect bullshit): Okay, well, we're in the middle of setting up the restaurant for lunch, so it's probably not the best time, but...
Creepy: (sarcastically) Well, I don't think the MANAGER is doing that.
Me: *staring at him* ....(using my snotty, patronizing Disney voice, reserved especially for douchebags) Okay. Well, let me see if she's upstairs, but I would recommend calling someone and making an appointment.
Creepy: (forcefully) I don't do that. I don't make appointments. With anyone.
Me: Ooookay.

I went upstairs to find a manager, who agreed to come downstairs and talk to the guy. I warned her that he had been rude to me, and I stayed away from their conversation and continued what I was doing. Moments later, the conversation ended with her asking for his name and what company he worked for. She continued by walking him out of the restaurant and saying that if he didn't leave immediately, she was going to call the cops. (So hey, it wasn't just me.) Apparently he tried to sell her on some kind of cleaning product that he peddles, and when she said that we use something already, he insisted that whatever he had was better and asked if he could show her. She politely declined, and he responded with a tirade against us, saying, "You and your assistant (me) need to learn how to talk to people." Then he called her a bitch, which is about when he got kicked out. Nice salesmanship! I always worry, though, when we have to kick someone out, that they might come back later with a gun or something. That sounds so stupid, but you just never know. People are killed every day over absolutely mundane arguments, right?

Probably about an hour later, someone got pulled over in front of the restaurant. I don't know what for, exactly, and that was actually a pretty minor event. It just doesn't happen much on our street. The cops had the lights flashing and everything, though. We think the guy may have gotten a ticket, but it all happened so fast I couldn't tell how it ended.

I think the last slightly weird thing that happened was when the phone rang within the hour. I said what I usually say: "Good morning, (name of restaurant)" and heard nothing, then someone said, "(name of restaurant)?" I said, "Yes it is" and then they repeated "(name of restaurant)", to which I responded, "YES, this is (name of restaurant), how can I help you?" He asked, "What's (name of restaurant)? I've never heard of it." I sighed, "It's a restaurant. I think you have the wrong number." He said, "Oh. A restaurant?....well, I'm not hungry." I said, "Great" and hung up. What kind of response was that? "I'm not hungry"? A normal person might have said, "Oh, I'm sorry!" and hung up.

WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH PEOPLE?

There was something in the air today, I swear. The first hint of autumn chill and people go fucking crazy.

Here's hoping tomorrow is a more normal day.
xoxo

Paper Bag

I'm back to jogging on a regular basis. (Or attempting to. I went earlier.) I have a new roommate who's moving in at the beginning of October. My right eye hurts. (Damn chronic dry eye.) Rehearsals are going fine; the opening number is (mostly) blocked. I get to sit atop the piano for a minute during it. I've noticed that in my last three shows, I've received blocking that has me sitting or standing above everyone else at certain points. I like it.

I'm tired. This is all I got for now. More soon. Here's a video to make up for this post's lameness.

I would not have made it through certain experiences, past and present, without Fiona Apple's music. I probably will not make it through certain experiences without it. She's a brilliant musician...and she just understands. Her songs are often directly relevant to me, and this is one of my favorites--of hers and of all time. Fun fact: it's also a song I use for vocal warm-ups.

It's also clearly around Christmas in this clip, so...happy holidays.

xo