Memoirs Of J

Someone at work crop-dusted our hall today. Sitting in my cube minding my own business, I detect a slight odor wafting, precariously, by my nose. The odor only strengthens with the unmistakable mark of fresh shit tinged with a faint hint of sweat. Someone farted in our hall and kept on walking, leaving a lingering trail of wretchedness behind for, I don’t know, I may be exaggerating here, but I’d guesstimate 15 minutes before dissipation.

Why? We are maybe 20 feet from the bathrooms and privacy rooms where you can fart, linger, and not have to worry about killing anyone with your putrid anal expulsions.

I was at McDonald’s a few days ago waiting to order two large iced teas and some mcnuggets. Reason being, the drive-thru at Taco Bell was incredibly slow-moving. We had planned on getting tacos for us and some mcnuggets for the girls since they inexplicably do not eat at Taco Bell. Well after sitting for ages, C suggested I run next door to McD to save time so that I’d actually have time to eat before having to leave for class. I agreed, hopped out, and trotted on over to McD to fetch the drinks and nuggets.

Despite the fact that there were ZERO customers in line inside McD, it was taking ages to receive my order. I got my teas and stood to the side waiting. An asian guy came in and ordered a chicken sandwich. The worker asked “grilled or cripsy?” and the guy just stood there perplexed. “The chicken. Do you want it grilled or crispy? Like breaded or not?” “No, no mayonnaise.” “No I mean do you want the chicken breaded??” “I want chicken. Not hamburger.” “Breading or not?” “Oh, yes yes breading.”

As this spectacle was going down, I was entranced by the new flat-screen displays! They were fancily advertising the deliciousness of the strawberry-banana smoothies. Love those. Problem is, the display just has to show this pink … hole. Literally a pink hole for an advert. It’s an asshole. I don’t know how else to say it. They’ve gone and advertised a tasty smoothie with an anus. A smooth-shaven, not brown anus, but an anus nonetheless.

It has taken me a week to be able to write about this.  Not sure why.  I’m really getting too old for this shit to be happening, but true-to-form, here we go again.  I shouldn’t care about this anymore.  Why should I?  My life is pretty fantastic overall.  But the truth is, I am still affected by it.  I’m super sensitive to this, almost to an irrational level.

Last weekend I went to Target with Julia to pick up a few boring household items.  Laundry soap, check.  A few cleaning supplies, check.  Napkins, check.  Couple of college-aged jackasses commenting on my appearance, check and check!

For fucking real?  Still?  This shit still?  It hadn’t happened in quite some time.  I really truly thought I had progressed beyond the point of being that bad that people actually felt the need to comment on it.

Here’s what happened, in exact detail so you get the full and honest story.

I had just arrived and was near the front of the store still.  Shopping cart and Julia in tow.  It is a Saturday so I’m dressed in very casual clothes – gray cargos, a hoody, all stars.  Well-fitting clothes but nothing fancy or “sexy.”  It is just Target, after all.  My cart contained a box of Gain laundry detergent, a couple bottles of shampoo, and a box of tampons.  Julia and I were exiting the cosmetics row and turning left into the main aisle.  I spot a couple of younger guys walking towards us.  I don’t make eye contact.  This is my natural response to groups of males – look down and get the hell out of there as inconspicuously as possible because guys in groups are brutal.

When I saw them walking towards us, I was just chatting with Julia about school and things like that.  I tried to focus on her more and looked at her rather than ahead, and started veering towards the left to enter another aisle so as to not have to pass them directly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see them looking at us.  They start laughing.  They get closer and the redhead says to the other “EWW dude, I just had the worst visual.”  Both are laughing and talking about visuals.  They’ve each glanced in my direction a few times by now, laughing to each other.

I turn down an aisle as quickly as possible but I guess it was too late to avoid having to be laughed at.  So here I am dwelling on this for the rest of the day.  The rest of the week.  Wondering why, how can I possibly look so hideous that it solicits actual comments and attention. Isn’t being invisible and overlooked enough?  Didn’t think it could be worse than that but at least I sort of accepted it, only to have this happen now as it has happened countless times in my life.

The best part is these guys had maybe 30 seconds of laughter at my expense and went about their lives, probably forgetting the events entirely by the time they exited the store.  And here I am still thinking about it – replaying this in my head – an entire week later.  Sadly, I’ll replay it in my head forever, because that’s what I do.  Why do I allow people to have this kind of power over me?  People I don’t even know, will never see again, don’t care about.  How can this affect me as much as it does?  I guess the bigger question too is, am I seriously that bad visually?  Because I cannot fathom what I’d have to walk by in a public venue to feel compelled to comment on it to others.  I mean yeah I see unattractive people all the time but…that’s pretty much it.  You walk by and that’s literally it.  No commenting, nothing.  So why me?