Have you ever been minding your own business, and someone randomly starts a conversation with you that is completely without context?
A lady, who appeared to be in her late 60’s walked up to me while I was reading the news. She walked to the counter, and rested her arms on the surface in a relaxed manner. Instead of saying, hello, or, excuse me, she waited for me to notice her. “Hello, how can I help you?” I even smiled at her.
“You know, I bet you would get more respect from people, like myself, if you cut off all of that hair.” Well, that was a bit random. I can also say random stuff.
“I have a cat named Posternutbag.” Her eyes widened, and she dropped her mouth open.
“Why would you give your cat that name?”
“It’s from a Phish song… Lesson learned, don’t get drunk, and stoned, and listen to Phish, before naming your pet.”
“That is an awful name.”
“It has entertainment value.”
“What kind of entertainment do you get from giving your can such a horrible name?”
“When I take, Posternutbag to the vet, the nurse calls Posternutbag, Mr. Nutbag. I think that’s hysterical… I have been told that I shouldn’t be allowed to name any of my future children.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“But, I kind-of like the name Rutherford The Brave.” She was clearly unsure of what to think of me. I don’t think I was doing any good at gaining her respect.
“Is your cat a boy, or a girl?”
“Well… Posternutbag was born male, but due to a severe urinary tract infection, the doctor had to make a choice between putting Posternutbag down, or performing surgery.”
“So he had surgery? What did they have to do?”
“They cut off Posternutbag’s boy parts. Posternutbag is transgender. I’m letting Posternutbag decide his, or her own identity. It’s not up to me to judge. I don’t limit access to the litter box, either. When ya gotta go, ya gotta go.”
“I have to go to bed. This is just too much.”
“Sleep well. It was nice chatting with you.”
I love that I am such a people person.