People are fucking weird.
I was at work today - working at yoga, checking people in and pretending I am SUPER excited to get them water and towels and the occasional rental mat. I had just checked in a class, and while instruction is going on I usually have the place to myself. Get some work done, answer some emails, realize I've been staring at Facebook for far too long and all that great stuff.
What I am saying is it is nice to have the place to myself to get back to square one.
So I'm there, enjoying my solitude, and two randoms walk in.
Now, I am used to random walk ins, but they are usually coming in to ask about the yoga. I give my two cents about how awesome the yoga is, the intro special price and that if you need anything I will be MORE than happy to rent you a towel or a mat and sell you water - coconut or regular.
However, these were not my usual clientele. The first guy through the door had on an odd pair of khaki pants, a poorly chosen plaid/checkered shirt with a HORRIBLE bow tie and this weird, overly product-ed, limp, curly hair. And he was a white guy.
Second guy was an Indian (from India) fellow, dressed in a gray (or grey, if you're in Britain) v-neck sweater and, again, khakis. He was a little more put together than gentleman #1.
The next thing I notice about this pair is gentleman #1 seems to have a little trouble walking. Now, I don't exactly mean that he was drunk, but he could have been. But he also could have had a disability.
Gentleman #2 was walking behind him, in an almost body guard-esque capacity.
Gentleman #1 to me, "Hi, how are you today?"
Please note it was in a cheesy, sleazy, car salesman voice.
Me, "I'm well, how are you?"
Him, "I'm blessed, I'm blessed. Look what I've got here."
He holds out a package with one of those weird looking bubble guns in it.
He held it out with the intention of me taking it. And I know why that fucker did it that way. If I had taken that package, he would have had an excuse to stay longer.
I'm from New York, motherfucker. People try to hand me shit all the time, and I am the master of the pivot, avoid, continue with my day move.
So he holds it out and I ignore whats in his hand until he is forced to place it on the counter in front of me.
In his other hand, he has another one of these devices, just out of the package. He proceeds to demonstrate this toy in MY PLACE OF WORK by shooting the bubbles all over.
He tells me he just got these toys from the store for $10 each, but he'll sell them to me for $7 each.
I'm working in a fucking yoga studio.
What the hell do I need elaborate bubble toys for?
Is this a preschool?
Another toy store?
A play ground?
A kinky sex shop?
It is NONE of these things.
I give him my biggest, warmest, fuck you smile and tell him he needs to leave.
He says ok, and heads out.
Gentleman #2 never says a word, and quickly scurries out after Gent #1.
I still cannot figure out what G#2 was doing with the quirky hipster sleaze ball, or G#1.
Not to mention that this strange duo must have been walking from store to store trying to move these toys.
All I know is when they left, I had no idea what had just happened.
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