This week has been abnormally busy. And by busy, I mean douchey.
Work is testing my patience and this morning I came pretty close to hitting half a dozen people in the face with my umbrella… intentionally… because I hate the rain/snow and it turns me into a raging beast of fury.
Yesterday was no picnic either. Tuesdays are worst than Mondays, guys. They sneak in and pretend to be friendly with all of their “Cheap Tuesday!” promises, but don’t be fooled. They’re the devil, wrapped in discounts- much like Walmart… with fewer underwear faux-pas…maybe... depending on how your day goes.
|People of Walmart.|
All of this is to say that I’m probably not overly amusing today. I did, however, have a pretty incredible interaction the other day in the subway.
It was after midnight, I was far from home and the only other person in sight was a girl in neon tights that would put Bowie to shame.
I was minding my own business, trying not to fall asleep before the train arrived, when, from around the corner, walks a man. He was in his late-sixties to early-seventies and he was sporting a tilley hat.
|One of these...|
Beneath the tilley hat, he wore large headphones, equipped with a microphone that extended a few inches away from his face. He wore cargo pants and an old, teal, zip-up jacket. He took one look at me and stopped in his tracks. We made eye contact. (Oh, the dreaded eye contact.) He took a few steps towards me, now standing a few feet away, and muttered something under his breath. Not wanting to instigate a conversation, I shot him a look that said ‘huh?’ and shifted my gaze in another direction.
Tilley man piped up and said: “Playing the video games, I see.”
I looked down, remembering that I had been playing some Hangman on my phone to kill time, and offered a silent nod, acknowledging his observation.
Tilley man: “Wait one second while I take this off.”
Alarmed by such a statement, I looked up, silently praying this be a nudity-free interaction. Thankfully, he reached for his hat. Whilst leaving his headphones and microphone in tact, he raised his hat above his head, and leaned down a little bit.
Tilley man: “Do I look like Mrs. Doubtfire?”
I stared blankly at him, taking a second to register the question, and trying to determine if this was a joke. He took my silence as a cue to continue.
Tilley man: “I’m related to Mrs. Doubtfire, you know. I was just going through my family tree…” (He fires up his Scottish accent) “…turns out, I’m a Williams! Also! I had family in Liverpool! That’s English!” (His accent quickly changing from Scottish to English) “You know who was from Liverpool, don’t you? The Beatles! It’s true!”
I smiled reluctantly and said “Oh, that’s great”, attempting to sound as genuine and enthused as possible.
He placed his hat back on his head and in a tone that screamed ‘I’m pretty much famous’, he said “You’ll see me around”, as he sauntered off to a nearby bench.
… Still waiting for our next run-in.
The thing that pleases me most out of this interaction? Out of all of the Robin William characters to choose from, he likened himself to Mrs. Doubtfire.
What a lady, she is.