I have a knack for picking the wrong line. It's inevitable. If I'm a store and there's a line with seven people and one with two people, I'll pick the short line and end up behind the person who's buying ten different things for ten different people, AND returning something without a receipt, AND decides that, yes! Perhaps I do want to save an additional 10% by applying for a Target card right this second.

Take Friday, when I went to Ukrops (a local grocery chain) to buy a salad for lunch. I was in the lunch express lane behind a lady who was buying flowers and paying for them separately from her lunch. I knew I was in real trouble when the cashier started discussing them in-depth. See, the cashier was a Commenter - the type who has to comment on each and every item you buy. When my turn came, I was not exempt. She patted my bag of Easter candy and said "Oh, I just love these! Aren't they the best? I like to put them in my daughter's Easter basket." I wanted to be all "Don't bother me right now. I'm...thinking." But! I was distracted by the couple behind me. The woman was practically humping my aura and I had to lean around her to punch in my PIN, that's how much in my space she was. Her companion was standing to my immediate left and was YAP YAP YAPPING at her right over my head. People! I'm standing right here! It was as if I wasn't there at all.

This happens to me a lot, though. I wonder if maybe I go slightly invisible? Some woman at Target last week walked right in front of me to get in line. In front of me. Hello? Hi? Not invisible! At least, not last I checked. Maybe I need to do something to get noticed because if one more person shoves their grocery cart into my legs I'm going to freak the fuck out. Raccoon hat? Full Liberty spikes? Suggestions?

*****

Okay, here's the rest of the childhood trauma saga. I sort of ran out of steam on this one, so it's not as long:

Down on the Farm, Part Two

A couple years went by before I went back to the farm and for some reason, I thought things would be better. I was a few years old, a bit wiser and I was prepared. I was also willing to put up with a lot to get 24-hour-access to horses, as my obsession was now a full-blown mania.

At first, things were better. Mandy was nicer, for one thing. I wasn't sure what had changed, but she didn't seem to think I was the enemy anymore. We got along pretty well for a few days and I thought this time would be different.

There were incidents, though. I was a clumsy kid - I stumbled, spilled things, broke things on a daily basis. The very first day back on the farm, I helped Mandy groom a horse they were boarding. She told me I didn't have to tie him up because he was trained like a cowhorse - if you dropped the lead rope on the ground he wouldn't move. It was cool. She tacked the horse up and we went riding in the jumping ring, with me on the cowhorse. At one point Mandy asked me if I could move a bar on one of the jumps, so I dismounted and dropped cowhorse's reins on the ground, thinking he would hold still like he had with the lead rope. He did, but Mandy yelled at me to grab him and when I lunged at the reins he stepped on them and jerked back away, breaking the reins. That belonged to someone else. And were expensive. I got yelled at for that but, really, was it my fault?

I learned though. I decided that accidents for me were inevitable, so the best method was to not get caught. When I stepped on the brake light of a horse trailer (while trying to look in) and it snapped off, I just wandered away. Oops?

A few days into my visit Mandy got invited by her friend Mary to go to Water Country USA. This time Mandy wanted me to go too. I was excited. Belinda said she'd cover my ticket price if Mandy and I weeded the garden. (Nothing for free around here, no ma'am!) so we spent a hot afternoon weeding, but it was worth it. Mandy was totally nice and seemed happy that I was going too.

The next morning Mary and her family came to pick us up. Mary's mom didn't seem too happy to see me, but I wasn't really concerned because, dude, water park! However, when the car pulled up to the gates of the park Mary's mom turned around to look at us and said (I swear to God) in the meanest possible way "Mandy, since you were invited, I'll pay for your ticket." Then she glared at me and turned away. At that moment I remember wishing the earth would just open up and suck me down. Jesus! What was wrong with these people? It's not like she had to pay for me, Belinda had given her money for my ticket!

The rest of the day pretty much sucked. Mandy and Mary immediately ditched me, taking all the rafts and floaty toys with them, and I spent the day trying to have fun by myself, but water park really isn't much fun alone. I remember having a picnic lunch with Mary's family and trying to eat as little as possible because I hadn't been invited. That was an awful day.

Then we come to the Silver Dollar Incident.
One afternoon, while alone in Mandy's room, I dropped something behind the radiator and when I got down on hands and knees to retrieve it, I found a silver dollar. Score! I put it in my pocket, delighted with my find. Now, before you judge my thievery, I should defend my ten-year-old self by saying that I really didn't know I was stealing. In my young world, it was found money.

Maybe I should explain better. I grew up in an old dusty house full, full, full of stuff. My grandfather also lived in a big old house full of old stuff. I was a born scavenger and was obsessed with combing the darkest forgotten corners for long-lost treasure. Hell, one long horse show afternoon was spent in the dirt under a gazebo that housed a pay phone. The floor had slats and I surmised, correctly, that much change had been lost. I think I found $7.00 that day! (I remember that Mandy thought I was crazy for rooting around under a gazebo, but what else was I going to do all day?)

So, when I found this silver dollar, it did not occur to me that it was something recently lost that would be missed. (I was a bit thick, for sure.) It honestly didn't occur to me that I was stealing and when it finally did occur to me, it was too late.

That night, they asked if I took it and I had no choice but to say no. If I admitted to it I was a thief forever. I would be shamed and they'd probably tell my mom and, horrors, maybe even my grandfather. I wasn't smooth enough to get away with telling a half truth - that I'd found it and held on to it to give back. They'd never have believed me anyway. I could have put it back where I found it, but at this point it seemed like it was too late. Hell, they didn't believe me when I said no anyway, so I might as well keep it! Anyway, I got away with it, I guess. They never asked about it again and surprisingly, my luggage was not searched. I decided it was payment for the way Mandy had treated me - one minute my friend, the next my enemy. She owed me.

So, that's pretty much it. There are a few other incidents, but these are the ones that have stuck with me the longest. Suffice to say, I'm glad to be a grownup. The End

44 chatty monkeys