Before I start my actual story, I need to make an introduction…
The most beautiful little pup you’ve ever seen, shown above, is our newest addition Clancy Blue. (Not Blue like Jay-Z stupidly named his child. Blue as in his color) We brought this little bundle of wrinkles home Monday night and are 100% in love, as is our other dog Rory. Now that you’ve been properly introduced, onto the story…
I have used the same vet for years. They have about 6 vets in the practice and every single one there has been wonderful. When I called to make Clancy’s first appointment, and my favorite vet was booked, I just agreed to let him be seen by “whoever” was open. Let’s just say this will not occur again.
Apparently they hired a new vet, “Dr. M.”, and are trying to drum up some customers for her. She was officially a one shot deal with my boy. It started out normal, by her coming in and introducing herself to my daughter and I. When she laid eyes on Clancy, it went haywire…
For the first few minutes she spoke to him in what I can only describe as baby talk to Clancy, complete with a lisp she apparently thought made her tone even cuter…it didn’t. I thought maybe it was a little odd. It became very odd when not only did she continue to speak to him that way for the entire visit, but would also answer for him in that same talk, but slightly changing her voice to make it more nasal.
Here is a snippet of what my daughter and I had to awkwardly listen to for about 20 minutes. Try to read this in the most ridiculous baby voice EVER so you get the full effect:(Don’t forget the fake lisp!)
Vet: Ooooh Sir Clancy, I have to give you shots!
Clancy:(As stated by Dr. M.): Shots? I don’t know what that is, but it sounds scary!
Vet: It’s not scary, just a little ouchy. (Is that even a word?)
Clancy: A little ouchy doesn’t sound bad. OK.
Now picture my daughter and I incredulously looking at one another, and me sternly making the “Don’t you dare!” face at my daughter. This is where my daughter made her great escape into the hallway (with a grin over her shoulder at me) saying she couldn’t watch the puppy get shots (LIAR!), thus leaving me with Dr. Loony. Luckily she came back within about 2 minutes, semi-composed.
Not only did this woman speak to Clancy in this tone the entire time, but when she would converse with me, she used THE SAME TONE! That’s right, I was forced to have a full conversation with this nut for the entire visit in baby talk…obviously from her end, not mine. My talk was much more in the range of sarcastic-please-speak-to-me-in-a-normal-tone voice, which did nothing to change her speech pattern.
Here’s a snippet of my conversation with her:
Vet: Sir Clancy, in a few visits we will give you the zip-zip.
Clancy: Dr M, what’s a zip-zip? That sounds fun.
Vet: Zip-zip is zip-zip. You’ll be fine. Mommy will explain zip-zip, right Mommy?
Me: What?!? Are you saying zip-zip? Are you saying neuter him? He’s not getting neutered, if that’s what you’re talking about here. (Wouldn’t you think my answer would snap her into adult speak? Well it didn’t!)
Without further torturing you from having to read anymore baby talk, let’s just say she gave me the tsk-tsk for that (Mind your business lady) and told Clancy that he would “Get lucky!” someday and said his Mommy would explain that too, when he’s a little bit bigger. FYI – Mommy will not be explaining that ever because, although I’m not a trained vet, he is a dog, and breeding is an innate behavior.
The only time this woman snapped into normal speaking voice was for a 30 second span when the receptionist came into the room to ask her a question. When she was finished answering her, she snapped right into that baby tone and introduced Clancy to her…to which the receptionist rolled her eyes at me. That was hands down the best part of the visit! Proof that this woman apparently does this all day long, and they think she needs a straight jacket in a size Medium too.
My daughter’s take on it when we got outside is proof that she is 100% genetically mine, even though I distinctly remember giving birth to her:
Alyssa: Mom, I know I am only 10, but I am certain that is the craziest thing I have ever seen and that woman wins the “Creep of the Week” award. She definitely lives in her Mom’s basement and has like 10 cats. Where did she get her Vet’s license? At a pre-school? If you ever book an appointment with Dr. M again, I’m not going. You’ll be on your own!
Needless to say, I will NOT be on my own, because Clancy will not be seeing Dr. M again EVER. Clancy didn’t like her anyway. He hid behind my legs 99% of the time because he was afraid of her high pitched crazy tone. See, he fits in with our family already!
Lesson learned here: When given a choice, never answer with “Whoever”, because that’s exactly what you’re going to get…”Whoever” is officially the code word for “A person you would never willingly choose on your own.”
I just hope Clancy doesn’t have flashbacks when we go back in 2 weeks.
That is a question I wind up asking myself just about everyday, and the answer is usually “crazy people”. Here’s my problem in life, I am just too observant. I try to tell myself that I should just go through life oblivious to others, but for me that is next to impossible. I blame all of my years of being a teacher for that. At work, I notice everything, because I have to. That, unfortunately, carries on through the rest of my day and no matter where I go, I see the craziest things. I often look around and wonder if anyone else notices what I do, but that never seems to be the case.
Some recent examples are as follows:
There was the 5X5 guy at the Wawa with the giant raccoon tail attached to his pants. I don’t mean clip-on either, I mean obviously sewn on. How do I know that? I had a good 3 minutes to stare at it in amazement while I cursed myself for leaving my phone in the car. Damn it….I ALWAYS have it in my pocket, except for right then of course… This tail was gigantic, seemingly well groomed, and down to his calves.What the??? Who does that??? I am not embarrassed to say that I literally speed walked to my car to get my phone, but by the time I unlocked the stupid thing and got the camera on he was already tucking that bad boy up under himself as he settled into the driver’s seat. The guy in the car next to me said he didn’t know what was funnier, the guy with the tail, or my frantic attempt to get a picture. Needless to say, I am totally on the lookout for Tail Guy all summer at the Wawa!
Then there was the lady with the 1980’s short Pat Benetar hair – ala the Love is a Battlefield video – at the Rite Aid. I wouldn’t have even noticed her if not for the awesome 1980’s braided tail she had hanging down…and not off the back of her head, but from directly behind her right ear. It was a scraggly mess of a braid that hung down to almost her rib cage. Whoa Nelly was it ever a beaut! I even had my cell phone all set to take a pic, but lo and behold her 8 year old son with his Sun-In Mohawk noticed what I was about to do…which ruined it for me. Again, Damn it…and again, who does that?
A few weeks ago we pulled up to the Liquor store, and some guy (who was about 23) walks up, sticks his hands into the cigarette butt recepticle outside, scoops them all out, stuffs them in his pockets like nothing ever happened, and strolls away. It was one of the very few times in my life that I was actually speechless, as was my daughter. (Yeah, that’s right, I brought her to the liquor store. Get over it)
I have to say that my husband wasn’t fazed in the least, but then again not a whole lot fazes him. We had to sit in the car for a few minutes so I could actually process what I just watched. Who does that??? If I saw that in NYC, I know I wouldn’t even blink, but in my sweet little town? What??? I’m sure he and his other homeless friends that live behind the 7-11 had a butt-smoking bonanza that night. Ewww other people’s spent smokes? And like 100 of them? Good luck with the diseases he probably caught – although he likely already had the gamut covered.
There’s also the lady at my exercise class who is not only always 1-2 counts ahead of the rest of us, but actually incorporates her own moves. Everyday I try to get away from her, but she just keeps getting in my force field and makes me look at her. Does she not realize that the rest of us are not where she is? Does she hear a totally different beat than the rest of us? It’s annoying…very annoying. I’d say who does that, but there is always one in every class.
I have an awesome “Who Does That?” story from a work meeting the other day, but I believe I could get in trouble for posting about that. You’ll just have to read about itin my book someday, I guess. I will just say that I have sat in those kinds of meetings for 17 years and that was one.of.the.best.EVER!
Yesterday my husband noticed that someone stole our shovels. Yes, some jackass came onto our property and stole our shovels…not one, but both of them! That’s what really led me to this posting today, because who does that??? Is there a run on handing in stolen shovels at the pawn shop? Did they really need to dig a hole that badly? Shovels? Seriously? Come on! Needless to say, I had to scoop bamboo leaves yesterday in the blazing heat with a snow shovel. I looked about as ridiculous as you are picturing. Don’t forget to picture the cursing I was doing either.
I could keep going, but this post is long enough. I think I will start posting my “Who Does That?” moments from now on. If I have to notice this crazy shit everyday, I think I should be generous and share it! You’re welcome in advance!
If you interviewed 100 people, I’d guess at least 75 of them would know the rest of that sentence. Antoine Dodson not only became an overnight sensation when he retold the story of his sister being assaulted, he also made me feel normal about one of my little hobbies in life…watching the news to see what the neighborhood crazy is going to say when he or she is interviewed.
I have been obsessed with this for most of my life. Every night when I sit down to watch the news, 99% of the stories are just terrible and depressing…and then it happens…they interview the biggest lunatic they can possibly find, and all is right in my world again.
Case in point: My friends and I have a running joke about the phrase “What had happened was…” because we know from experience that anytime a sentence starts that way, whatever follows it is going to be the worst (or to us, the best) all time version of an event (ie lie) you have ever heard, and it is going to be quite descriptive. People that start a story that way are just stalling while they try to come up with some embellished information. Now that you know that, pay attention to the news interviews. If there is a murder in the middle of some god-foresaken place, Joe the resident crackhead is likely to start his version of the story that way, and it’s likely his version would never stand up in court – but damn if it isn’t entertaining.
A few weeks ago, I was watching a story about a guy that was run over and killed near an off-ramp in Queens at 4:00am. The witness they interviewed was about 500lbs and madly waving her monster sized chocolate shake as she proclaimed “I feel bad for the guy, but I’m super glad it wasn’t me!” Super glad, you say? Well, I am super glad that you just so happened to be roaming around by a desolate off-ramp while the rest of us were sleeping. I am also super glad that you didn’t have any pressing matters to attend to and were able to stick around until broad daylight so they could interview you, and presumably buy you a shake the size of my fibula as a reward. You made my night and for that I thank you.
My all time favorite quote so far came from News 12. It was so good that I texted all of my friends and made them tune in for the rerun of it. (That’s the beauty of that station by the way…they run the same stories over and over all day) Anyway, a grizzly double murder occurred during a home invasion in Newark. When they interviewed the neighbor to ask if he was scared by this event, he responded “Scared? I was so scared I couldn’t hardly sleep all day!” I can only hope that he got to catch up on his much needed sleep the next day while I was out actually working…but I digress. They also interviewed a woman in a dirty showercap right after him, but I couldn’t tell you what she said. It doesn’t even matter what she said actually, because her choice of head gear was more than enough for me.
So to all of you crazy bastards out there who unknowingly spout classic lines on the news, argue with your girlfriend/boyfriend/spouse in the background of a live shot, or accidently curse live on the air…your 15 seconds of fame live in infamy with me. You are awesome without even trying., and you make me super glad that I am a news addict.
Anyone who knows me knows I have a sick little obsession with Obituary pictures. Is it horrible? Some people may think so, but I don’t.
The first thing I do when I open up the paper everyday is head straight for the obits. First I make sure I don’t know anyone who died…(I have to show a little decorum people!) then I take a good hard look at the pictures. More often than not, I find a winner and it makes my day.
I mean seriously, who picks some of these??? Do their families dislike them that much or is that really the best picture they could dig up that shows they world who the recently deceased really were?!?
I’ve really seen some great ones over the years:
– The guy whose family used his prison picture (jumpsuit and all)
– The lady with the wayyy too small sailor’s hat teetering on her coif
– The people who have looked like Biggie Small’s clone (I cannot believe how many times this guy has died!)
– The ladies with eyebrows drawn all the way up their forehead that always seem to look surprised.
– The people who are 98 years old but have their HS graduation picture on their obit. (Damn, you haven’t aged a bit!)
– The lady who was looking sideways out of the corner of her eye. (She is still the reigning title holder for “Most Creepy”)
-The guy with one eye.
-And my all time favorite…the guy whose family put in a pic of him with a patriotic baseball cap superimposed on his head…sideways no less. (His b-day was the 4th of July, so they decided to make it jazzy, I guess)
If they are especially awesome, I actually cut them out and keep them in my ‘funny folder’. If I’m having a bad day, I just peruse through that baby and poof, bad mood – gone! I’d really love to scan a few of the aforementioned and put them up here, but with my luck, I’d get sued.
It’s a little abnormal, I know…but it really does make my day. Over the years, I have shared this joy with a lot of my friends. At first they say things like I’m sick and that’s bad karma (blah, blah)…but guess what – it’s contagious. If they come across a good one, they always share it with me. It’s almost like a contest at this point. We all also have hysterical poses we would like used in ours (someday years and years and years from now), but that’s a whole nother blog post…
So, go ahead…think I’m sick and going straight to hell…that’s fine – but now that you’ve read this post, you’re gonna do it too.
Don’t worry, I’ll save you a seat and we can be toasty together…