Golden Potato

Yes, I do have more than one superpower. No, it shouldn't be allowed. Yes, I do want to get rid of them, as I've yet to figure out how to use them for good.

Besides, I don't like having great responsibility.

But this superpower brings endless amusement to people I know. And I've grown used to it, I've accustomed my scheduling to it, to the point that I forget I have this power. Until someone decides to point it out again, until it once again becomes blazingly obvious and I can't ignore it. Until I have plans in ten minutes, and I really need to get a 2-liter to bring along, but the person in front of me has to pay in pennies.

For my superpower, or this superpower anyway, is the ability to cause my line in any supermarket to be the slowest. Generally it means that the person in front of me will have to check each item to make sure they got their sale price, or will pay in change, or will need a pack of cigarettes but the cashier can't actually get them herself so has to get her manager to open the cabinet. Things that happen normally to everyone, but which appear to happen with greater regularity due to my superpower.

Not that they happen all the time, mind you. Occasionally I manage to find a line that has no one waiting yet. Occasionally I find a line where the cashier is just waiting for a customer, ready to help...

...forgetting that the printer just ran out of paper. Or deciding as I get there that it's time to go on break. Or to change shifts. Or that it's their first day and they have to double- and triple-check each item they scan. Or half of my items won't scan properly and they have to try entering their numbers and calling to the back of the store to get the actual price because $150 can't be right for a potato[e].

Yes, I did almost get charged $150 for a potato. And it tacked another five minutes onto the time spent in line. And it would have been longer, but I didn't really want to ponder what was in the potato.

People Are Lemmin's

I went to a wedding this past weekend. It was a beautiful time, held in a sunken garden surrounded by trees. A "five-piece quartet" was playing, the birds were chirping, and the sun was shining (a bit too warmly). And one of the attendees was a kid, maybe two or three.

This kid was smart, this kid was able to single-handedly prove to me that people are a bunch of followers. Ok, maybe not single-handedly. He did use both his hands. For as the instruments stilled to change to the wedding march, the kid began to clap.

He /knew/ that when the music stops, you're supposed to clap. He /knew/ that it's the Right Thing to do, and so he did. And was surely incredibly confused when his mother spent the rest of the ceremony trying to shush him any time clapping might be likely.

He was entirely excusable, though. You /are/ supposed to clap when the band stops playing.

But everyone else, the entire rest of the attendees heard clapping. And /they/ know that if someone else is clapping, well, you're obviously supposed to clap too. So right then, before the beautiful bride began to walk down the aisle, the entire group broke out their hands and began to clap.

I can't help but wonder if she thought we were just glad to finally be rid of her. And then I saw the smile on her face, and knew that she wasn't thinking about anything but him.

More Children than a Fish!

I grow weary of having to deal with money. It's such a pain, you have to make sure that you have enough, and then you find out they're expecting $43.01 and you only have a $50 to pay with so you end up getting $6.99 in change because they've got to have their penny and you keep forgetting to carry one around. You can't have all the things that you want because they cost..well, more than you can afford. So you waste so much time dreaming about things you want and can't have and not doing things that you should.

I think we should outlaw money.

Of course, we'd still need an economic system to replace it with--without economics, we'd probably all have everything that we wanted because we wouldn't know that there are other things out there to have. Mostly because there wouldn't be and we'd all waste all of our time being hunter/gatherers. And I'd much rather keep money than have to be a hunter/gatherer. I'm great at gathering, I just have problems with determining which is good to gather and which should stay. So I gather it all.

But I digress. We need a system to replace this obviously out-dated economic system we have going now.

So I propose that everyone just give me everything. I can then dole it out however I see fit. I'd never have to carry a pocketbook again!

But I'd also have a bit more work than I do these-days. Maybe being parent to the entire planet isn't such a bright idea. But, still... If I could have everything, maybe it'd be worth it.

As long as I didn't have to change any diapers.

It's Just a Hole in the Ground

I like being special. I /want/ to be special. But I learned today that at least one facet of what makes me unique might not hold up in the future. I learned that I might just become another one in the masses.

Well, I would be if the masses could fit in my hidey-hole.

I like my hidey-hole. It makes me special. Sure, some people /think/ that they have their own little hidey-holes, useful when things get too busy or frightening or when they're just plain bored. My abilities to make proper use of a hidey-hole transcend these normal uses. I managed to live in /my/ hidey-hole for years!

But, alas, I was talking to a friend today and discovered that he's been making extensive use of a hidey-hole of his own. He didn't quite manage to use it properly for a full month, but it shows that he's working on it. Sooner or later (I hope later), he'll obviously be able to make use of it for longer periods of time. Mayhaps even surpassing my best record.

And then, what will I have, other than years wasted? Sure, you might think that I could start over, that I could manage to retain my title of hidey-hole king, but I no longer can. I've tried to return to my hidey-hole, and found that I've forgotten where the entrance is.

Yeah, I could dig another, but would it really be the same? I'd have to give up all the furniture I already applied to the previous one!

No, I'm going to have to resign myself to being that much less unique. I'll have to become more normal. Which frightens me very much. But I can at least console myself with the knowledge that I'll still, always, and forever remain unique in at least one way.

So please don't tell me that you know someone else that exists on a couple hours of sleep at a time. If you did, well, I'd just have to go hide.

A Foggy Day III

A Foggy Day II

A Foggy Day