Saturday, June 6, 2009

Um, Can I Just Walk My Dog?

I walked down the hill at the dog park towards the lake with Andy, who was actually being a non-douche and trotting just a few feet ahead of me stopping to turn around every few minutes to check in, when I sorta kinda noticed this older man, maybe 50, sitting on a bench off to the right, his black dog sitting at his feet, a faint satisfied smile spread across his face.

Thinking nothing of it, I continued down the hill and perched on the rock wall a few feet from the water while Andy tore around the area, sniffing butts and splashing around in the lake. The man and black dog, which I quickly found out was named Emily from the way he was baby talking to her in this creepy high pitched voice that most people would turn off as soon as they left their house, soon came down and sat near me on the rock wall.

Several minutes and encounters with the irritating baby talk to other dogs pass before the man asks me, "Is this one yours? What kind of dog is that?"

I gave him my usual answer of Jack Russell Terrier and maybe something else, but he's a shelter dog so we'll never really know.

"Well actually you can," he said. Then starts this strange mannerism of staring off into the sky and swirling the fingers around in a circle against what looked like a clear, plastic CD case on top of some papers and a magazine he was holding in his other hand. He searched and swirled and searched and swirled and stared and analyzed and talked to himself and came to the conclusion that Andy was without a doubt 50 percent Jack Russell and 50 percent American Pit Bull.

Why yes, a pit bull is exactly what comes to mind when I look at this 20 pound terrier:

It's like looking at a shitzu mix, reaching into your ass, then telling the owner that the "mix" part is surely Tyrannosaurus Rex.

I just smiled politely and went back to watching the dogs, but as he got up to leave, Emily took a liking to me, which sparked another strange swirling episode. Dammit Emily.

He stood a few feet in front and to the side of me while swirling and muttering, "....10, 20, 30....140 percent," then declared that I was 140 percent, someone that not only did things for others, but went out of my way to help them. Well, I guess I'm glad his swirly hand didn't say I was an asshole.

I then noticed that he had a big blue crystal around his neck like all psychic-y and shit. Then I sort of put it all together.

"Oh, so you do readings on animals and people?"

"I do readings on just about everything," he said, pointing up at the sky at a streak an airplane had left and blabbing on and on about how it was fucking up the world or something and the government was covering it up. He swirled his fingers on his magical all knowing CD case and figured out there were four world fucking up chemicals in the said streak.

What. The. Fuck.

At this point I'm thinking he seems a Ted Bundy sort of way. I'm thinking schizophrenia perhaps? And started picturing his house plastered in unrelated newspaper clippings scribbled with code in red ink - very "A Beautiful Mind." Then I thought maybe he's just like one of those JFK conspiracy theory people - not necessarily crazy, just a little odd and obsessed.

There was more talk about "energies" and "neo-hydro-something or others." Then I asked him what his little swirling technique was called and much to my surprise he said, "well I don't know, but Einstein said that nothing is solid and when you find the right answer, it gets sticky."


I humored swirly man who informed me that his CD case was not actually magical and I could do this technique on the palm of my hand. He went through a few scenarios that my extremely practical self couldn't quite grasp. I swirled my fingers against my palm and felt no stickiness when the apparent "correct answer" was announced. Dammit Einstein.

There was more talk about how much education he had and how he tries to teach people this technique, but he's one of the best at it in the world. Theeeen, he randomly declared matter-of-factly that the murder of some kids a few years ago was traced back to a church that apparently used them as human sacrifices. Yep, he went there.

Then he continued on his way, but before he headed up the hill, he turned to announce that he taught psychology in inner city schools for many years and they use some sort of energy to dumb down the kids, then money is taken away from these schools and given to private schools. Then he condemned organized religion. Then some white trash chick sitting with her boyfriend decided to try to argue with him in a very uncouth, bitchy way and that's when I put my figurative ear muffs on until I was sure he was gone.

He wasn't rude or mean or molestery, so there was no reason for me to be anything except polite to him, plus if he was nuts, I wanted him to be on my side, but I had a feeling white trash chick was pretty much snatchy to everyone she met anyway.

Several minutes later, Andy had followed some Rottweilers up the hill, so as dusk set in, I headed back up the hill to retrieve him and head back to the car. As the woods surrounded me before I broke into the clearing I thought, will swirly man jump out of the bushes with a chloroform soaked rag? Are my ninja skills up to par if this happens?

I found Andy and saw swirly man and Emily off in the distance, stopped trapping talking to a few other women. Oh ladies, for the love, just say hello and keep walking. I wonder how long they stood there.

Seriously, can I just walk my dog?


Anonymous said...

I know it's not really FUNNY (for you at least) but I couldn't help chortling to myself. I attract people just like that too. I don't know why. I'm much too polite to just cut it short and leave. I have to listen to every stupid, goddamn word. Seriously you should take me dogwalking with you - you'd be fine as all the crazies would make a beeline for me. They'd be queueing.

Evan said...

one time when i was six my dad's friend dave started talking to me and i didnt understand anything except the phrase "christ or choas, you make the choice" he has a degree in sociology and got in the 30's on the act and has a daughter but lives alone in low income housing, hes comming to my sister's graduation party.

Dave said...

1. Dog people are weird to begin with.

2. This guy definitely had some marbles missing from his Chinese checkers set.

3. My dog is 50% add and 50% hole.

SassyLittleGinger said...

definitely doesn't sound like the brightest peanut in the turd!

i had a guy want to read my palm at taco bell once, after he was done he started telling me about how he was expelled from school for bringing in firecrackers and that palm reading is his calling.

the crazies make it so awkward... you feel bad walking away but they're so damn annoying!!

and i <3 your dog, so cute!


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