This Conversation Sucks

I was on vacation in Banff and found myself waiting with a friend in a parking lot at one of the many campsites in the area. We were standing around making small talk while the rest of our group used the restroom when my friend saw the largest RV either of us had ever seen. He exclaimed, “Oh my god. It’s like a freakin’ house on wheels!”, which is a kind of retarded thing to say when you consider that’s pretty much exactly what an RV is supposed to be.

Unfortunately, exactly as he was shouting about the “freakin’ house on wheels,” we heard an audible sigh as an extremely overweight man happened to be riding his bike directly in front of us. We both looked at each other in horror as it dawned on us that the oversized cyclist had every reason to believe we were talking about him. While the obese biker rode out of earshot, my friend shouted out a meager sounding “Not you,” which I’m pretty sure only made things worse.

Since then we have both created a back story for the poor soul we unintentionally mocked. We’re both convinced he set out on his bike to ride around the park in a final effort to get in shape and turn his life around. That day was the first day of the rest of his life, and, just as he was starting to feel good about himself, some asshole shouted a petty (and kind of bizarre) insult that made him decide there was no point in even trying. He went home, turned on the TV, had a huge bucket of fried chicken, and decided to never leave the house again. All because of our callous taunting.

Still, if only he could have seen the RV he would understand…it was totally a freakin’ house on wheels.

While awaiting a showing of Spamalot at the Paramount theater in Seattle, my girlfriend and I were treated to a couple of teenagers behind us reenacting the entire Black Knight scene from Holy Grail line by line. Adding some additional stupidity to the whole thing was the fact they were using a plush Black Knight doll they must have purchased from one of the vendors at the theater.

After they finally concluded reciting the dialog pretty much everyone in the theater had already heard dozens of times (from much funnier people), there was a long lull in their conversation. Apparently it’s reciting movie quotes or nothing at all for these two BFFs. However, after what seemed like a far too brief moment of peace and quiet, we were treated to the following exchange:

Kid 1: Who would win in a fight, Master Chief or Bobba Fett?
(Without skipping a beat)
Kid 2: Master Chief, hands down.

No explanation given (or needed, for that matter). Master Chief would totally kick Bobba Fett’s ass.

The boyfriend and I had just finished a workout and were hungry for some lunch. We stopped at a Subway on the way home and waited in line to pick out a sandwich. In front of us was a large troll of a woman who was instructing the Subway employee on what ingredients she wanted. We were getting impatient and antsy because Large Marge was sandwich blocking us.  She took her sweet old time building arguably the most artery-clogging sandwich the world has ever seen, mixing and matching animal meats like she was Dr. Moreau.

After piling an obscene amount of meats onto the bread, the Subway employee asked the following question:

“And which vegetables would you like on your sandwich?”

…to which the rotund customer responded, “Mayo-NAY-suh.”

Yeah, that’s about right.

I was the uncomfortable white guy standing in line behind you talking with my girlfriend about what we were going to order. You were the Nubian Goddess with the giant hoop earrings that would later declare “I’m here ’cause I ain’t cookin’ tonight.” As if your evening plans had come down to either ordering takeout or making a Souffle.

Without even turning your head you asked “Why you gotta be so loud?” Which my girlfriend and I assumed was being directed to the kids loudly waiting for their food over in the corner. My girlfriend asked “Are you talking to us?” and I’m pretty sure I stammered a confused “What?” in an effort to clarify your sassy inquiry. “I’m speaking English, aren’t I?” you said, as you stared daggers through my Honky soul.

We awkwardly apologized and waited in silence while you completed your transaction. As soon as we went to order you saw a friend of yours walk through the door and ran over to provide the standard quiet and reserved greeting of “haaaaayyyyyyy!”  Perhaps this is why you had asked us to not be so loud just moments earlier, because you were concerned our background noise might in some way overshadow your thunderous greeting.

Stunned and confused we listened to your entire conversation as it echoed through the restaurant, while we counted down the seconds until our food was ready. Our number was called and I grabbed the food and made a b-line for the door. As I left, our eyes met and you offered a condescending “Have a nice night.” I pleasantly responded with “Thanks. You too!” And our paths parted for what I fear may be the last time.

I waited in the car until you left so I could scribble down your license plate and meet up with you to consummate our unspoken passion. Unfortunately for both of us you had taken a cab. Who takes a cab to get fast food? And when can I see you again? I’ll be there the same time next week waiting for you to put me in my place.