Tid-Bits: "OCCUPADO."

Setting: dirty nasty gas station in Green River, WY.
Time: December 31, 2013, about 2 pm. Or 14.00. Whatever tickles your fancy.
Hero: Yours truly.
Villain: A trash can and my lack of grace.
Plot: Read on.

My family and I were making the trek to Rexburg, ID by car. At this point in time, I was still in a cast for my broken wrist. I was driving one car with all of my junk and my mother, who is not junk, in the passenger side. (She's really a lovely lady. Her value is above that of rubies.)

As I was driving, I managed to drip a considerable amount of Squirt soda pop down the inside of my cast, making for an uncomfortably sticky situation. We stopped for gas in Green River, and I took it as an excellent opportunity to clean my arm. I made my way into the rest room, where I removed my cast, (it was made to be removable so I could wash my hands. Yay, hygiene!) As I was gently scrubbing the sticky pop off of my wrist, some antsy Nancy started to pound on the door. I said "just a moment." Hoping that she would back off. She kept pounding, so I said, a little louder "occupied!" and I went to dry my arm. This impatient Polly kept pounding on the door. I was getting annoyed, so I just gritted my teeth and got around to putting my cast on. I went about outing my cast back on and throwing away he paper towels.

This wouldn't be a Brynne story if something strange didn't happen. As I threw away the paper towels, I managed to throw myself away as well, i.e. I fell. I fell face first into the nasty gas station bathroom garbage can. I was about waist deep trying to claw my way out with anxious Annie pounding louder and faster on the door. I thought to myself 'maybe she doesn't speak English.' So I began to yell "OCCUPADO" over and over again.

I tipped over the trash can and wiggled out, absolutely disgusted by the situation, and went back to the sink to give myself a 'bath' of sorts, when what I really needed was an acid bath. The pounding Patricia finally went away as I continued to wash myself clean, but NOTHING could make me feel clean after that situation.

I'm still trying to wash away all of the germs.

-B

How to Properly Argue with a Juggler

              Contrary to the title, this is not a "how to" guide. Let me set the scene: I was walking through the MC on campus to attend a meeting to prepare a presentation. Some juggler began to follow close behind me, chanting "juggle, juggle, juggle, juggle". I was kind of wigged out by him, so I did my best to ignore him. After I had ascended the stairs to the Crossroads, I thought I was free of all tag-along wannabe carnival stars. 

               About an half hour later, I'm sitting with my presentation group and we are discussing how to properly convey the importance of diction when all of the sudden, here comes juggle boy singing "I knew you were juggling when you walked innnnn" and other assorted pop songs made to be about juggling. I gained respect for him as he juggled because he was a juggling superstar. Our table began to talk to him and ask him questions about juggling. He took this as his opportunity to prove to us that he was 'funny'. (He really wasn't. He was trying too hard. Comedy should be effortless. If it's not, then it won't be funny. That's part of my spiel denouncing most stand-up comedy,  but I don't have time to go into that.)

                But then it happened. 

                He said to us "I bet you've never read your scriptures..." Now, I LOVE my scriptures and study them on a daily basis, but juggle boy didn't know that. Jokingly, I said "woooow. I'm offended."Juggle boy then took it upon himself to quote the great Brigham Young, saying “He who takes offense when no offense is intended is a fool, and he who takes offense when offense is intended is a greater fool.” Obviously, juggle boy never learned the art of interpreting sarcasm at clown college. 

           I then whipped a scriptural grenade out of my arsenal and pulled the pin. "Proverbs 21:19," I said, "it is better to dwell in the wilderness than with an angry and contentious woman."

            Juggle boy then got the hint and sheepishly said " I think it's best I go now". I politely said "thank you!" Juggle boy then said "for what? Going away?" I actually was sincerely thanking him for the juggle show, but leaving was an added bonus. 

Moral of the story: There really isn't one, but I thought this was relatively entertaining.

-B