Note: The last two of these four have been published on Facebook previously, so if you've read them before, I apologize.
My Observation (Part 1)
For as long as I can remember, I've been a very observant person. I tend to notice things in peoples' behavior and demeanor that others don't, and because of this, people-watching has become a favorite pastime of mine in recent years.
A few months ago, I was sitting on one of the benches in my local mall doing just this, and my eye caught an average-looking Indian man walking in my direction a few dozen yards away. Seconds after I began watching him, in lieu of nothing, he dropped to his left knee, put his left hand on his right foot like he was tying it, and reached out with his right hand to rub one of the (clearly fake) leaves the mall had "planted" in the mall's medians. I assume this awkward arm-and-foot-crossing was done to check and see if the plants had been real or not, but I'm not certain because the way the action itself flowed so fluidly made me think he'd done it a dozen times before, and I can't imagine someone needing to check that many mall median planters over the course of their lifetime.
Aside #1: To fully understand just how awkward-looking this position was, I suggest you try it out for yourself using the description above as a guide. It really was insane.
Immediately after doing this, he stood up and noticed that I had been watching him the entire time. He turned around on one heel and began to quickly walk in the opposite direction, looking back a few times nervously as if I'd caught him doing some heinous act.
It was only when I watched him fade away into the crowd that I realized that he'd been wearing slip-on sandals the entire time.
My Observation (Part 2)
Another one of my favorite interesting observations came shortly after the "leaf-feeling"one, at that same mall inside of a small furniture store.
I saw a small family walking around the same portion of the store as me, with a mother, father, and two twin girls, aged around eight years old. Both girls had mild down syndrome, and their parents were very patient and understanding with them, a perfect portrait of a family dealing with disabled children.
But something was amiss. As is tradition with young twins, both girls were wearing matching clothing, save for one small detail. The first twin was wearing a red shirt adorned with a large, white circle, with the words "THING 1" on it. The second was wearing the same, but hers said "THING 2."
Now, obviously the girls were wearing these shirts because of the characters in the age-old Dr. Seuss tale "The Cat in the Hat," but did the parents of these two disabled children not realize the implications of these t-shirts before buying them? Their poor planning and execution when it came to their daughters' clothing made me feel like the worst person that had ever lived, as I had to run (not walk) to a different area of the store so I could have a laughing fit without hurting their feelings. I wasn't even laughing at the implication or the fact that the children were disabled, either. I was laughing at the parents' carelessness and blatant stupidity.
The Sun-Visor Story
When I was a kid (around the age of ten or eleven, I'd say), I was driving in the back seat of my mom's car on the driver's side, playing with her handleld vanity mirror that she always kept in her purse. We were in notorious Dallas traffic, barely inching forwards every few minutes. I was playing with the reflection of the mirror, holding it at different angles, watching how the light's reflection changed as I moved it.
I noticed a blond-haired woman with big teeth and sunglasses sitting in the car next to us, in the passenger seat. She had a very mom-ish look about her, and was talking to the man who was driving (presumably her husband). Suddenly, an idea struck me, and I aimed the reflection directly at her eyes. She immediately shielded them with her hand, and turned to try and look at me. I ducked down quickly, and the light was very bright, but I was sure she saw something.
Slowly, I poked my head back up over the edge of the door. She was looking right at me, shaking her head sadly and saying something to her husband. She didn't seem angry, or hurt, just disappointed. She pulled down the sun visor and turned it so no light could be shone in her eyes from my direction. I sat there, and stared straight ahead for the rest of the car ride home, feeling terrible.
Every single time someone around me uses a sun visor in a car, I think of that woman. I wish I could go back in time and apologize for being such a little douchebag. Not only because it was a terrible thing for me to do, but because I'm sick and fucking tired of having to see her horsey-ass face trying to guilt-trip my pre-teen self every single time someone uses an everyday fucking item in a vehicle. That shit sucks.
Before I end this, I'd like to encourage you all to come up with your own way of fucking with people. Remember that it cannot be harmful in any way, and must be executed with the utmost seriousness. Fucking with people is an art form that should be appreciated and admired, and passed down through the generations. It makes people's day a bit more interesting, and generates that minute bit of anarchy that all of our lives deserve.
I noticed a blond-haired woman with big teeth and sunglasses sitting in the car next to us, in the passenger seat. She had a very mom-ish look about her, and was talking to the man who was driving (presumably her husband). Suddenly, an idea struck me, and I aimed the reflection directly at her eyes. She immediately shielded them with her hand, and turned to try and look at me. I ducked down quickly, and the light was very bright, but I was sure she saw something.
Slowly, I poked my head back up over the edge of the door. She was looking right at me, shaking her head sadly and saying something to her husband. She didn't seem angry, or hurt, just disappointed. She pulled down the sun visor and turned it so no light could be shone in her eyes from my direction. I sat there, and stared straight ahead for the rest of the car ride home, feeling terrible.
Every single time someone around me uses a sun visor in a car, I think of that woman. I wish I could go back in time and apologize for being such a little douchebag. Not only because it was a terrible thing for me to do, but because I'm sick and fucking tired of having to see her horsey-ass face trying to guilt-trip my pre-teen self every single time someone uses an everyday fucking item in a vehicle. That shit sucks.
Fucking With People
Since before I can remember, I've been inventing new ways to fuck with people.
Aside #2: My definition of "fucking with people" is as follows:
fucking with people (slang term) - A blanket phrase used to describe any practical joke-type situation that is harmless and usually leaves the target confused.
When I was in school, I'd practice sleight-of-hand magic tricks on my classmates, often stealing small objects (erasers, candy, etc.) in the process, claiming they had "disappeared." I was and still am a master of slipping any object into my sleeve without notice, a talent I'd often practice in front of mirrors as a child and teen. Now, as an adult, I usually bum cigarettes from idiotic drunk hipsters at keggers whose minds are blown by such simple tricks, and gladly cough up a coffin nail for a short magic show.
When I was in school, I'd practice sleight-of-hand magic tricks on my classmates, often stealing small objects (erasers, candy, etc.) in the process, claiming they had "disappeared." I was and still am a master of slipping any object into my sleeve without notice, a talent I'd often practice in front of mirrors as a child and teen. Now, as an adult, I usually bum cigarettes from idiotic drunk hipsters at keggers whose minds are blown by such simple tricks, and gladly cough up a coffin nail for a short magic show.
Anyways, cheap entertainment aside, I've invented a few ways to fuck with people that I hope others will exercise and spread, to bring a little more confusion and hilarity into the world.
#1: Journey
Description: When listening to 80's rock music with other people in a car or otherwise, referring to every band as popular ballad-rockers Journey. See if anyone corrects you. More often than not, they won't. They'll just uncomfortably shift in their seat and look at the ground, or pretend to be distracted by a bit of fuzz on their slacks. It's delightful.
Aside #3: If no 80's rock is available, use the French phrase "c'est la vie" ("such is life") in the wrong context and see if anyone notices. Even further, when offered something from a friend (such as food), claim to be allergic to something that has nothing to do with what they are offering you. My personal favorite is when someone offers me a cigarette. I respond with "No thanks, I'm allergic to peanut butter."
#2: Toilet paper
Description: When in the bathroom at someone's house, fold the end of their toilet paper roll into a triangle shape like they do at hotels. Also applicable in public restrooms, though they could assume it was the janitorial staff that folded it.
Aside #4: If you don't think this is funny, imagine someone that you didn't know previously (a friend of a friend) coming over to your house and doing this while in your bathroom. Wouldn't your next bowel movement be made a bit nicer (albeit confusing) by this small, polite gesture?
#3: Sneezing
Description: While walking and holding a drink that has some amount of liquid or ice in it, fake-sneeze loudly and throw the drink into the air as if you sneezed ridiculously hard. Swear loudly and pick up your cup. Or don't.
#4: Salt and Pepper Shakers
Description: This one takes a bit of effort to pull off, but the outcome is well worth it. Go to a Goodwill or other such resale store and pick up a pair of generic salt and pepper shakers. After washing them, take them with you the next time you eat at a restaurant and exchange them with the ones they have at your table. Take the now-empty ones with you, to use the next time you go out to eat. I like to imagine the look on the busboy's face when he realizes what happened.
Before I end this, I'd like to encourage you all to come up with your own way of fucking with people. Remember that it cannot be harmful in any way, and must be executed with the utmost seriousness. Fucking with people is an art form that should be appreciated and admired, and passed down through the generations. It makes people's day a bit more interesting, and generates that minute bit of anarchy that all of our lives deserve.