Tag Archives: Arrested

Weird Is the New Nice

Google images: pinterest.com

Google images: pinterest.com

My son and I dropped my wife off at the door of the grocery store, and then we parked in the lot to wait for her. Biff was sitting in the back seat.

It was a warm Saturday afternoon and my window was open. The passenger window in the car next to me was open, too, and sitting by himself in that car was a young boy of about 11 or 12. He was probably waiting for his mom.

“How are you doing?” I said unthinkingly through my window to the boy. The boy stiffened and looked straight ahead.

“DAD!” hissed my son. “What the heck are you doing?”

“Why? What’s the matter?” I said, looking at Biff’s reflection in the rearview mirror.

“You don’t DO that!”

“Do what?” I asked.

“Don’t say hi to a strange kid. Don’t you know that’s weird and creepy?”

“He doesn’t look very strange,” I replied.

“No, YOU’RE strange!” Biff whispered to me behind his cupped hand.

I sighed. “Yeah, I guess in these days you’re probably right. I was just trying to be friendly.”

“You’re going to get yourself arrested,” said Biff as he slunk down in his seat and looked away.

I rolled up my window.

After my wife was finished buying her cucumbers, she got back into the car. As we drove off, I told her what happened and asked her opinion. “I side with Biff,” she said. “You’re whacked.”

Okay. I understand. I used to be nice. Now I’m just weird.


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Photographing Goof

Google images: mikeblake-myopinions.blogspot.com

Google images: mikeblake-myopinions.blogspot.com

My friend Ed dropped me off in front of the supermarket. Ed and I were going to go do some Saturday sportsmen stuff. But first I had to pick up a plantain and some Cocoa Puffs for my wife.

“I’ll just be a minute,” I told Ed.

“That’s fine, I’ll just wait for you over there in that parking spot by the shopping carts.”

“Okay,” I said.

I found my plantain and Puffs, and I picked up a bug light, just for good measure. Then I walked to the front of the store to pay.

When I got there, I noticed that all of the cashiers had deserted their registers and were lined up side by side, looking out the plate glass window into the parking lot. I looked beyond them and saw Ed’s car with the front door open, but I did not see Ed.

Moments later a police car drove by the window. Ed was sitting in the back seat, staring straight ahead sheepishly.

“What could have possibly happened out there in the parking lot in the short time it took me to pick up a plantain, Cocoa Puffs, and a bug light?”

Gloria, the cashier from register 5, told me the tale. “That weird guy who the police took away was photographing shoppers in the parking lot. An old lady came in here and told us employees, and we called the cops.”

Oh great, I thought. Now Ed and I won’t be able to go turkey warbling, and I’m stuck here at the supermarket without a way to get home. But when I walked to Ed’s car in the parking lot, I saw that he had left his keys in the ignition, so I drove to the police station.

I visited Ed in jail. “I was just trying to figure out how to focus my new camera,” he whimpered. “And then the cops came and slapped me in irons.”

“Well, Ed,” I said. “You know you have to be extremely careful these days who you look at. Some elderly woman thought you were photographing her plastic bags. Too bad you weren’t focusing on a flower or a grackle instead of a supermarket patron.”

“But she was on the other side of the lot. I didn’t even see her! Really! I’m innocent,” cried Ed.

“Sure you are,” I said. “Well, the prison guard said that your trial would be in three weeks. I understand cell block 8 is one of the better locations here, so I guess you’re pretty lucky, really.”

“Thanks a lot, Blair,” said Ed.

“I’ll be back again to visit on Wednesday after my Brazilian samba class,” I told him.

As I left the prison that day, an officer arrested me for sticking my chewing gum on a parking meter.

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