So this is a rarity, but this post has nothing to do with writing, heavy metal, video games, or horror movies. You might get a kick out if it though if you enjoy any of those things…
I had the most bizarre experience walking with my 1 year old son Gannicus Picard down to the gas station. We’re in line and I’m holding him on one arm and my reusable bag full of drinks in the other, when I notice he’s started spitting up some rather foul smelling something or other. It’s some gross white gunk that’s unpleasant, but not exactly The Exorcist level crazy, either. Not all that unusual for a baby, though, right?
I look at the lady at the register and ask “Hey, you got any napkins or paper towels or something?” and she stares at me, slack jawed, apparently unable to speak. She’s looking at me as though I’ve sprouted a second head. I ask again, and she remains open mouthed and utterly silent.
There’s a woman behind me who looks very mom-ish with a huge purse, so I turn and say “You got any wipes or something I can use?” and she’s staring at me, again utterly silent, as though I’ve not only sprouted a second head, but both of them are prophesying in tongues about the end times.
At this point I’m getting pretty pissed off, because both of these people can clearly see and hear me, but they are both just refusing to respond in any way, so I leave my spot in line and storm off to the counter to find some napkins… but there aren’t any.
There is a kid wiping down the counter with a rag though, who is somehow also fucking staring slack jawed and silent at me, as though I’ve sprouted two heads, one of them is prophesying in tongues, and the other one is shouting the contents of his browser history to his parents. Seriously, this kid looks TERRIFIED. I literally grab the rag out of his hand with a disgusted snort, wipe Gannicus and I off, and then hand it back to him. He says NOTHING during this encounter.
I go back up to the woman at the register, who finally finds her voice to ask about Gannicus as she rings me up… and the total for my soda and three beers somehow ends up $6.66, which makes her eyes go wide as saucers and renders her silent again, as I’m certain she now believes either my son or I are the Antichrist. All I can do is roll my eyes and toss a wad of bills at her before walking out.
Somehow a baby spitting up managed to render three separate human beings deaf, mute, and utterly terrified. I don’t think any of my horror stories have even managed that feat yet!
UPDATE: Someone made this comment on Facebook:
I feel like you’re leaving the part out where you were wearing a promo shirt from some black metal band from Norway that had an upside down burning cross on it or something.