Conversations

So...as it turns out, drunken men of questionable address seem to like Le Pooch Grande. Lately when I take her for a walk it seems that one will materialize out of nowhere and strike up a conversation. The conversations usually go like this:

Drunken Man: Heyyyyy...I (mumble mumble slur) your dog. That's a very sweet (mumble mumble). What's her name? Is it Cocoa? My dad (mumble slur) a dog named Cocoa. Is that Cocoa? What's your dog's name?

Me: Er...Cocoa! (I never, ever give out real names to drunken strangers--not even my dogs'!)

Drunken Man: Wowwwwww....(mumble mumble) soooooo cooool. Cocoaaaaaaa (mumble slur slur).

Me: (Trying hard not to retch from the alcohol fumes wafting towards me during my first trimester pregnant state. I mean, I don't have morning sickness or anything but this could have set me off. Easily.)

Drunken Man: (Round two of the same conversation) Soooooo....I like your dog. Watsher name? Cocoa?

Me: Er...yes. (Desperately wishing the light would change so that I could enter the crosswalk and get away from this guy).

Drunken Man: Coooool! Thash coool!!! My dad had a dog named Cocoa! (Laughs maniacally). Hi Cocoaaaaaa!

The light changes. Le Pooch Grande and I get out of there. Fast.

I have a neighbor like this as well except he has a fixed address (I think) and his psychoactive altering substance of choice is pot. We call him "Santa". Whenever anything goes wrong in the 'hood (graffitti, littering, newspaper theft) Husband blames this poor schlep. I both love and despise this tendency of Husband's. I mostly love it because it gives me yet another opportunity to enter into a debate with Husband. The debates go like this:

Husband: Somebody stole our paper again. I think it was Santa.

Me: Why on earth do you think it was Santa?

Husband: Because he always cuts through our yard and besides, I saw him sitting at the bus stop reading a newspaper.

Me: Ummm...honey? The bus stop is right across from a convenience store. Don't you think it's possible that he got his paper there.

Husband:

Next Conversation:

Husband: Someone threw food into our backyard again and the dogs are eating it. I bet it's Santa. We should setup a camera and catch him.

Me: Why do you think Santa would chuck food over our fence? Perhaps a raccoon was raiding the dumpster next door and dropped it when he climbed the tree.

Husband: I've never seen a raccoon in a dumpster.

Me: I've never *not* seen a raccoon in a dumpster.

Husband: Well...I think it was Santa. Besides, he smokes pot.

How can I argue with that logic? More importantly, how could I *not* argue with that logic?!

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I'm selling stuff on Craigslist again. Most recently it was a king-size mattress for $200. Here's the first email I received on the subject:

From: r.a.d
Sent: Saturday, April 05, 2008 10:09 AM
To: Femme
Subject: King Mattress Set - Excellent Condition - $200

"give you 75.00 cash for this

let me know

this is not a joke"

Is it just me, or does this email sort of remind you of a ransom note? I didn't respond. I don't respond to people with creepy initials and poor grammar. It's just one of my many Craigslist rules.

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Today I went to my little cousin's school to help her during "Kite Day". Now, most of you probably don't know this about me, but I've got some mad kite flying skrillz. I made sure that my, I mean, my cousin's kite was flying the highest among all the other kindergartner's' kites. Amidst all the accolades she was receiving from her classmates, I noticed a woman twenty feet away frantically shooing us. Noting that she now held my attention, she shouted, "Get back! Get away from us! Get your kite away from ours!"

Okay, so let me paint the picture for you. There were roughly 25 kindergartners in a field surrounded by power lines. The field wasn't very large so we were all concentrated in the same general area. These are kindergartners so no one can fly, let alone steer a kite very well. This chick just didn't seem to get it as she continually yelled at everyone to "keep their kites away from hers!"

Finally, as she once again turned her wrath on me and my cousin, I'd had enough. "Lady," I yelled, "these are a bunch of kindergartners and it's a windy day! They can't help it if their kite gets too close to yours. You're not the only person on this field!"

She just glared at me. I, in turn, realized that I had caught most everyone's attention. Not wanting to ruin "Kite Day", I took my cousin's hand and led her to a spot away from this wench.

Meanwhile, some little boy with a Spiderman kite ran right by us and his kite became hopelessly entangled in ours, causing both to come crashing to the ground. Laughing, we all began trying to untangle the kites. Apparently this was enough to prove Kite Nazi's point. "You don't know how to fly a kite!" she sneered at me from across the field as she struggled to get her own kite airborn. "You don't know what you're doing."

What I thought was, "Says you whose kite is currently laying on the ground!"

What I said was nothing. I didn't want to be "that adult" who ruined kite day.

Did anybody read The Kite Runner? I *so wished* at that moment that I knew how to cut her kite string with mine!