From Justin Gawel: Eccentric Dirtbag
Did someone say that, did I just think that, or did I pick this up through some sort of Morse Code military vibration in my teeth left over from my stint in Korea? Sorry, I should note I don’t mean Korea and the hullabaloo-kerfuffle-nonsense way back in the fifties, no, sir, I’m talking about my Korean Town dentist with whom I have a mutual “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” policy when it come to asking for insurance and for asking for extra nitrous oxide to take home.
Give a man a fish and he’ll eat for a night; give a man a complimentary garbage bag full of euphoric gas and he’ll come back to your office of dentistry and fireworks for years to come. I may only have a degree from a discredited institution, although some people will tell you it was fake and just an outdated CPR certificate I found in the trash. However, if I had needed to take an economics class for my degree I’m sure Adam Smith’s “The Wealth of Nations” would more than cover the stability and attractiveness of a business founded on cavities, cleanings, and complimentary drugs and explosives.
I may have underestimated the strength of this gas. I know, it sounds like a line I’ve undoubtedly poured on before in times of failed chemistry tests and instances of excessive funeral flatulence. But Randy had warned me this time; he said I would freak out and here I am, mercy me, having me a spell of the crazies with a touch of the vapors.
Is it possible Randy is some sort of sayer of sooth? Nah, if he were any good at that then his living quarters would resemble more of a house rather than his van full of sea spiders and pigeons.
Alas, Randy, I should have heeded your prophecy more seriously. Twas foolish of me, similar to that time you sold me that Malcolm Ecstasy and I stored it in the Motrin bottle. Seriously, who knew hallucinogens cured hangover so well? You were right about that that time, Randy; that stuff did get me messed up by any means necessary, and was, overall, much more of an aggressive trip than that Dr. Molly Luther Chronic Jr. stuff.
How long have I been home holding this garbage bag full of nitrous? It’s gotta be somewhere between twenty minutes and all of time, but I can’t remember and, sadly, I neglected to buy a watch with a decade readout, or any watch, or wrist-sized sundial, at all, for that matter.
Has Randy been sleeping here the whole time? What is that piece of paper he’s clutching—he doesn’t have any valuable papers in his life. Christ on a cracker, he smells like shanty-van if I’ve ever smelled it. Why does this paper have my name and signature on it? Here’s to hoping this isn’t a repeat of when I traded him my power of attorney for gas money.
Major crisis averted, looks like this document just give Randy permission to crash in my place until his Van of Man makes it through monsoon season at the quarry. Pretty sure Randy doesn’t know how quarry water levels work, shockingly though this document is proof that he is reaping the benefit of hiring that personal notary.
Well, let’s make the best of this and ride out New Roommate Randy through monsoon season. Today could be the beginning of something great, but right now the trash bag is emptying and things are returning to normal, as in I’m consciously eating a pack of raw hotdogs in my bathtub.
This day would truly make a fantastic movie, wait, no, not fantastic—what’s that other thing—oh yeah, horribly unwatchable.
The early 1900’s were a simpler time. And by simpler I of course mean boring. Life was uninteresting; people actually read books and went bird watching for fun. Can you believe that books passed for entertainment back then? No visuals of car chases, explosions, or sex. I can honestly say that Requiem for a Dream wouldn’t have been as stunning if I only had descriptions of Jennifer Connelly having half of a double-ended dildo jammed up her chocolate factory.
Nowadays our society has progressed. People who embrace bird watching are no longer conventional and considered strange, eccentric, or freaks by most social circles. If the world were a high school cafeteria the birdwatchers would be sitting alone in silence at the broken lunch table that’s covered in stains. Today we think of birds are mundane, but people and people watching? Now that’s entertainment!
Like bird watching, people watching can occur nearly anywhere, although some places are significantly better than others. A stuffy office building, for instance, does not have the ability to yield the noteworthy goons that a county fair or a Department of Human Services waiting room can. Plus, with humans, there’s no chance of missing out on seeing them, because unlike birds that can migrate thousands of miles across continents at times, the trolls you’ll find at these locales rarely deviate from the area between their probation office, the liquor store, and the bowling alley.
Very little equipment is needed for people watching. You don’t need binoculars or telescopes, as most of these specimens are so pudgy they can be seen from blocks away. Basically, you just need enough self-control not to draw attention to yourself and all the judgments you’re making about everyone else. Yes, it’s fun to sit at Applebee’s and quietly comment on the oaf parade that the staff there calls their “dinner rush”. Yes, it is smart not to order anything from the dumpster that Applebee’s refers to as their kitchen. And yes, it would be hilarious to stand up on your table and scream, “man the harpoons” just as an obese white woman waddles through the door, but don’t do that. Your cover will be blown, it will startle the rest of the grazing herd, and your fun evening will be ruined.
Alas, if only Applebee’s had existed in the time of Moby Dick, I would bet that Captain Ahab wouldn’t have had much trouble finding a white whale.
Once you have become adept at identifying the novice-level chuckleheads (i.e. the morbidly-obese, the perpetually filthy, and the doomsday-obsessed rambling preachers) you’ll be ready to move onto the slightly more challenging messes.
Luring birds towards your area with birdcalls are a big part of the activity of bird watching and, of course, people watching is no different. Which call you use depends on whom you’re looking to attract. Chanting “all you can eat buffet” is going to lure the fatties on their rascal scooters, you know, the mall food court crowd, while the Circuit Court crowd would be more attracted to calls of “free Obama money”. Be sure to retreat to a good hiding spot after vocalizing these calls, as we wouldn’t want any ogres coming up to us and actually inquiring as to where the buffet or free money station is. Remember, at the end of the day, people watching is about making fun of un-knowing individuals behind their backs for things they likely can’t control. Lord knows we don’t actually want any interpersonal contact with these individuals.
*Fun Tip: Scattering flyers for a non-existent garage sale, holistic healing seminar, or a Bible camp is an easy and anonymous way to drive the freak show to wherever you want it to be.
People watching is like a safari, except that more people watching habitats are constantly being created with urban sprawl while traditional safari, or wilderness habitats are continuously being destroyed. Thus, we can look forward to a future filled even more freaks and locations to watch said freaks! Just remember to keep your eyes open and your laughing to a minimum. That is unless you want to start a very awkward exchange with a 300-pound behemoth on why you are intently watching them gorge themselves on the bucket of lard balls that they’re dipping in ranch dressing. Wait, I didn’t even know this Lazer Quest sold lard balls, let alone food! Disgusting, indeed.
Happy judging, everybody!
