Pushy, rude door-to-door salespeople

What is it about door-to-door salespeople that makes them think they have the right to bother me at home? And what makes them think that the appropriate response to my "No, thank you, I'm not interested, I don't buy from door-to-door salespeople", is to get downright rude and offensive?

Just now, as I worked in my front garden, some guy in a pick-up with a metal box in the back that said "Cascade Summit" drove up, stopped, got out and started giving me whatever spiel he had. I gave him my pat response. He got in his truck and yelled rudely at me.

I responded, "I have the right not to be bothered at home."

As he drove down the street, he yelled, "Quit your yelling and screaming!"

I yelled "Jackass!"

I'm sure he made more comments but I could no longer hear him. Nor could he hear me curse him and call him worse than jackass.

He just reinforced, once again, why I don't buy from door-to-door salespeople.

What a jackass.

If anyone knows who this business could have been (no plausible results to my google search), please let me know. I'll place a complaint.

Fortune cookie wisdom

Last night's fortune cookie read "Take some much needed time to relax in the next few days"

This is way better than "take 2 pills and call me in the morning."

And yes, I'm obeying its message (the laundry and cleaning will have to wait) and loving every minute of it!

Night of the Living Dread

Thoughts carom around my brain, like Pong on hyper-drive, bouncing too quickly for me to comprehend them, much less catch and quiet them. I smooth an imagined wrinkle out of my pillow case, move my hair out of my face and adjust the blankets again. Husband lightly snores. Not helping. I jostle the bed. He turns over, breathing more quietly. But then something else annoys me, blocking my quest for slumber. It doesn't matter what the perceived annoyance is, there is no hope. I can't find sleep.

I give up and stumble downstairs, zombie-like. Zac mews softly, welcoming me with hopeful expectation. "Sorry, kitty, it's not breakfast time yet. You've hours to go."

I settle in front of the TV, a cup of Sleepy Time tea in hand. Maybe, just maybe, the combination of somnolent herbs and mindless TV will numb my brain and still my thoughts.

Ugh, it's infomercial after infomercial. I don't like them to begin with but the last thing I need or want was to be greeted with whatever must-have delusion they were pitching. I turn off the TV and sit in the dark, finishing my tea, wondering, "Where the hell are you, Mr. Sandman?"

Sleep finally conquers wakefulness about 3am.

Damn, I hate insomnia.

Stupid driver tricks

Saw a woman flossing her teeth when I drove my oldest to work yesterday. She was in the car behind me at a light. I didn't want to watch - so utterly gross - but I almost couldn't help myself. Must...look...away...

And she had people in the car with her! Yucko!

***

September was a baaad month for me, hence my silence. I hope to be caught up soon and back to normal, that is, as normal as I get.

Give me comfort

Comfort foods: mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, cheesecake, rice pudding, ice cream, pizza, and more. We all have our favorites and, dang it, if they just aren't the wisest food choices. Not that that stops us. Oh, no, when we want our comfort, we want full fat, loaded with calories, yummy in our tummy solace.



I had tomato soup and grilled cheese, two of my favorite comfort foods, for lunch yesterday. Mmmmmmmmm, it was incredible.

The soup must be homemade, by me or by a restaurant, I'm not that picky, but it can not be canned, no, no, no, never, never, never. It's tinny, harsh, overly salted, yuck, it ruins the whole experience. I'd rather go without. But back to the good stuff. The creamier the better, overtures of roasted garlic and fresh basil are always welcome.

If your eyes tell you that's a white bread sandwich, you're right. While I try to do the right thing and go whole grain, there's just something about a grilled cheese made just like my mom made it - white bread and sharp cheddar cheese.

Tell me truly, isn't your mouth watering just looking at it?

Wacky things people do as they drive

I'm not just talking about people talking on cell phones as they drive. Or people driving with their pets on their laps, sometimes with paws on steering wheels. I don't even mean women putting on make-up, peering in the rear view when their attention should be on the road ahead of them.

Oh, no, that's peanuts compared to some of the wacky things I've seen people doing as they drive. And get this, as bad a rap as women drivers get, the craziest stunts I've witnessed have been pulled off by men.

Here's just a sampling of what I've seen.

A guy playing his trombone, with it sticking out of his open window, and both hands on the instrument. I'm guessing he was using his knees to drive. Now why on earth would he need to play as he drove? Was there no decent music on the radio?

Another time I saw a guy eating breakfast as he drove. No egg McMuffin, no donut, no granola bar, nope, he wanted a traditional bowl of cereal. That's right, a bowl of cereal. He had the bowl balanced between chest and steering wheel, spooning the cereal with his right hand, driving with his left. I guess I should be glad he had one hand on the steering wheel. Can you imagine the mess on his lap and in his car if he came to a sudden stop or had to turn abruptly? With as many food choices made for eating on the run, why did he go with cereal?

Just the other day, I saw a woman brushing her teeth, going at it like mad, frothing at the mouth. I pointed it out to hubby and asked, "Where will she spit?" He said, maybe she'd swallow it. Ewwwwwww, not to mention how unhealthy it is to swallow fluoride. All I kept thinking was, hasn't she heard of gum?

I must be conventional (or safety minded) but it would never occur to me to try anything even a fraction as crazy as any of the things I've seen others do while driving.

comb my egregious oyster

That was the subject line of a spam email I received today. Total nonsense, of course, as are the majority of spam subject lines, but this one gave me the giggles. It was more than the usual babbling non sequitur, this one sounded like a command.

"Comb my egregious oyster!" shouted Oliver, as he motioned towards the 100-gallon salt water aquarium filled with sea anemones, clown fish and countless other oceanic gems. He loved the fluidity of the tank's sea life but not the maintenance it required. That task was relegated to his overburdened assistant, Priscilla.

How about that? A spam subject title that is actually workable into a story, albeit a bad one, but still, that doesn't happen very often (a workable spam line, not a bad story. I can write those any time, anywhere).

I did wonder, however, if "comb my egregious oyster" might be a euphemism for something. I'm so out of the loop, it could be and I'd never know. Oh, well, so be it. That would give the story a little added twist (perhaps in more ways than one).

I wonder what future pearls of prose will turn up in my spam file. With luck, I'll find another that I can turn into poor fiction.