Welcome to crazyville

Like I've said multiple times before, and it's not meant to hate on anything in any way, but there is really no shortage of crazy in Davis. That isn't to say that there are actually a ton of legitimately crazy people around, albeit true that there are some crazy (loosely defined) people in Davis, it's more that crazy things happen--like people asking you for things (and me obliging). It could be said that I attract crazy, and I think Nick thinks the same thing of himself. With that said, you could assume that when we are out in Davis or Boston together, we attract crazy like a bug zapper attracts mosquitoes, and you would be right. I digress.

I decided to head to good ole McKinnon's for some cheap, definitely not organically raised, fairly or freely or free ranged grown meats (and by grown I mean the animals that make the delicious meats, like chickens, and cows, and pigs). Now I usually have to jet out of work to get there before closing at 6pm. It wasn't going to be a problem today because, even though I didn't have any research assistant in the afternoon because she was sick, I am an animal and powered through all my testing and updating of datasheets etc. on time and was out by 5:15pm. Happily cruising down College Ave. I was rockin' out to that new Kevin Rudolf and Lil Wayne song, yeah, I said it, when I get stopped by a man with a little piece of paper who was looking for the 74 or 75 bus and/or Harvard Sq. and or some other place.

I usually enjoy helping people, and this wasn't an exception, despite the fact that his English speaking skills were less than stellar. However, I had to get to McKinnon's so I tried to send him off as efficiently as possible. He was looking for some restaurant in Belmont. I like to think I'm pretty good with public trans around here but I had no idea what to say to the guy without gesticulating like a maniac to get him to understand what I was trying to say or do to help. Long story short, since I can't really explain it any better, I figured out he needed to get to Harvard first, and then catch the bus there. I also convinced him to take the damn train to Harvard and not the bus because it was faster and the price is getting to be nearly the same anyway. I bid him goodluck, we went out separate ways, I hope he is not hungry still.

Great, obstacle one dealt with, it is now 5:35pm, walk faster. Jump out in front of traffic (to be fair there were 4 seconds left on the crossing countdown). Anyone stop and think about how funny those things are? It actually allows you to make an calculated gamble with your life (assuming that the drivers at the red light are revving their engines and ready to go, and not a) picking their noses, b) talking on the phone, c) singing, d) your favorite car activity other than driving). I like to think I could try and beat the odds since they have to allot some buffer time after that zero flashes up on the signal. The funny thing about that is, some signals give you more buffer time than others, so, there's another variable that you can use to gamble with your life. Do I run real fast, is this one of those, zero and then car crosswalks? Moving on.

I get just around the corner from Mike's (bear in mind, the entire time I've had my headphones on, and the previous time with the lost guy, my cell phone as well--and not because I try and be antisocial while walking, I actually don't like doing that, but it was a long day) when this woman looking a little flustered walks up to me and says, "Excuse me do you have a phone I could use just for one second?--Mine is dead." Head. Phones. On. This clearly is not a good avoidance tactic. So, after helping the other guy (And on Sunday, I might mention, after we lost the soccer game the ref's had the gall to ask us to move the goals back off the field, I was the first person to get up off my ass and move the goal which drew a small following of helpers. I don't mind, no biggie, and then after I'd gone back to my bag and took off my cleats, we were missing a ball, which was kicked over a fence and on another field, so I jogged over and retrieved it.) I figured eh, why not, it'll be quick, and if she runs, I'll wrap tackle her. Luckily, her phone call did only take a second. Is Davis just full of lost/needy/ill-prepared people, or completely candid people that have no qualms about assuming that everyone else is helpful and friendly? Or is that I look approachable? (maybe I should start acting a bit more rabid and herky jerky). I didn't mind this stoppage, truthfully, except that now it's 5:43pm and I have meat purchasing to do. Oh, and I just juked it.

I get all my shit together in McKinnon's and get in the shorter line, obviously, who doesn't do that? The guy in front of me is paying with his debit, and for some reason the machine isn't working because McKinnon's only has 'one line' with which it can process credit/debit purchases (cost cutting so that my chops only cost $3.50, I neither huff nor puff, because this place is like a godsend to those that do not fall in the Jon McCain (read: Deeg, jk jk..) tax bracket. Finally, I am on my way. Rest assured, the next time I go to Davis after work when the dregs of the potentially wacky are still there (meaning after 9 when I usually go to go out around there it's usually full of either mildly drunk people or students...so maybe we're the crazy ones...or I have a tolerance for that now that is significantly higher than that for the previous), I will make sure to note how normal the experience was.

I am fed, I am dirty, I am ready for the Celtics game. Over and out.