Random Thoughts

A man coming towards me is talking to himself–I think he’s nuts. I avoid his eyes like my mom told me to do when I spot someone like that. When he passes me, I realize he is talking into a hands-free phone because his ear is blinking a bright, cheery blue. I am half-right. I’m the one who is going nuts.

Then, a man gets out of his car, and when he is about 10 steps away, his car honks twice. He has locked it with a remote. I am such a country bumpkin that I raise my arm and wave, as if the honk was from Steve-the-Milkman or Ed-the-Garbage-Man, characters from my youth that were passing by and signaling hello. I quickly stuff my hand in my pocket. Nobody saw. Whew!

Several doors down, I walk into the drug store. A sign on the door reads “Open 24 hours a day, all year long.” I look at the double set of locks on the door and merely sigh. Is anybody else starting to feel my pain?

I press on, saying nothing.

I ask the pharmacist for something for a headache. She asks if I want “maximum strength.” I ponder this. Who with a headache would want “minimum strength”? I’m fairly sure the idea is to knock the headache out. This isn’t baseball. I don’t want to bunt. I’m swinging for the fence every time up, OK? Yeah, lady, maximum strength!

She tells me if I have any problems, I can look it up on the Web. “Okay,” I say. “Do you tweet?” she asks. “Not since I was 5,” I proudly respond. She gives me the same look the waiter did. “What are you, an alien?” I smile, “Not really sure.”

Ron Ciancutti is the Purchasing Manager for Cleveland Metroparks. He is not on Facebook but he can be reached at rdc@clevelandmetroparks.com

Page 2 of 2 | Previous page

Related posts:

  1. Managing In Micro
  2. Don’t Count Your Blessings—One Is Enough
  3. The Senses Of Summer
  4. Deja Vu For The Soul
  5. Put The Blame On Me

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

*

HTML tags are not allowed.

  • Columns
  • Departments