Stranger Danger

I have the most bizzare interactions with strangers. 

Recently, I’ve had a drug addict asked me if I would bite her drug dealer. (No)  Or if I would let him bite me. (Also no.)  This woman then told my friend and I that we’re ”gorgeous, and educated too. You can tell!”  To which my friend replied, “Don’t let the accent fool you.”  She’s not wrong, she’s just a jerk.

A few days ago I met the self proclaimed town drunk of Fairfield, CT., who in addition to telling me three semi-funny jokes, also told me that he was in the French Foreign Legion, was a graveyard shift construction worker, was the man who issued the subpoena to Monica Lewinsky, and then accurately guessed my ethnicity.  He told me his house was “twenty yards that way” but then later it was “ten feet that way.”  I reached the conclusion that he lives in a mobile home / his car.

Next time I try to pick up random, obviously uninterested girls at a bar, I’m probably going to use those lines.  They’re solid gold.

My most recent and new # 1 favorite stranger interaction happened late Friday afternoon, at the New Haven Green.   I had gone out to lunch and was now sitting on a bench with my lunch date, chatting and people watching.  

We notice a man on the other side of the green wearing a three piece business suit, and has flowing locks growing from the bottom 2/3 of his scalp, and had chosen to leave the top 1/3 bald.   Walking in our direction, he suddenly changed his route.  What’s this he’s found?  A lawn chair under a tree.  He picks up the chair and walks towards us once again.  “Min…I think he’s gonna try and sit with us”

He comes over, mumbling something incomprehensible.  Something to do with the chair.  “Oh that’s been there since before we got here – I think someone left it.”  He tries to assemble the forgotten chair.  “Oh it’s broken right there on the corner.  That’s too bad.” 

The man says in his British accent (sounded educated to me), “It’s difficult to resist picking up trash from a concentration camp.”  And walked away.

Now, I don’t know if everyone is familiar with the New Haven Green.  But let me tell you, it is by no means concentration camp. 

Immediately after the mans departure, another one came into our lives.  This fellow, an elderly man with bleached blonde hair in a similar 2/3 of the scalp style said, “That guy is crazy.  I smoke ALOT of pot and I don’t even talk like that!”

I really don’t know what it is.  I don’t talk to strangers or really do anything that should instigate these interactions.  I’m a normal looking, normally behaved person.  So, I wonder if other people have equally odd interactions with as much frequency, and if so  – why am I not told about them?

The Tide is High

To Procter & Gamble, the makers of Tide To Go:

I absolutely love your product.  Tide To Go is amazing. I’ve honestly considered listing it as a general interest of mine on myspace and / or facebook.  Now, I’ll admit – initially i was very skeptical.  How did Kelly Ripa remove that stain so easily, right at the restaurant?  I just didn’t believe it.  I needed to try this thing. 

Needless to say, I tried it, and wow.  It does for me exactly what it did for Kelly. 

However - there’s a problem; unfortunately, I don’t always have my Tide To Go with me.  In fact, I’d say more often than not, I’m without it. 

It’s more like Tide To Stay.    Tide To Stay in my other purse.  Tide To Stay on my desk at home.  Tide To Stay under my car seat from when my bag fell and spilled its contents everywhere while I was stuck in traffic on I-95 yesterday morning.

Over the past two weeks, there have been several instances in which I’ve thought to myself, “Ugh! I wish I had my Tide To Go!!”  Out with my friends.  At the office.  On a date.   The list goes on and the stains just keep happening.  

Given this, I’d like to suggest that Tide To Go be made into a smaller, more compact version of itself and put on a keyring so I can keep it with my car keys.  The ”To-Go” aspect of my key set is implied by it’s very nature.  If my keys weren’t To-Go, I wouldn’t be To-Go.  And it’s when I’m To-Go that I need Tide To-Go the most. 

I don’t imagine it would be too difficult to make this happen, if the makers of Sharpie can do it, I’m sure you can too.   You’re half way there with the Tide To Go Mini.  Which I havn’t tried yet, but I’m pretty psyched on. 

Anyway, let me know what you think about Tide To Go On The Go. 

Sincerely,

Mindy To-Go Munizaga.

Any takers?

I’m giving myself seven days to get it together.

I’ve been meaning to do this for months.  Maybe even years. 

Mashed potato pizza at BAR, Downtown New Haven. 

About five minutes from my office, why I haven’t done this already, I have no idea.  But it’s reached a point where I can’t take myself seriously anymore. 

(Steph, if you want to come you’re my #1.  I’ll buy and be a charming dinner / lunch date instead of being some jerk who slept through breakfast.)

(19)95%, You Rock!

The first album I ever bought for myself was “(What’s The Story) Morning Glory?” by Oasis.  It was in 1995, so I would have been 9 or 10 years old.    

Even today, thirteen years later, as a (junior) adult, I still think it’s an amazing album.  Seriously.  You’ve got:

-Wonderwall*

-Don’t Look Back In Anger*

-Champagne Supernova

-(What’s the story) Morning Glory?

-She’s Electric (My personal favorite.  Try listen to it and not be happy.  Double dog dare you…)

Despite this seemingly early on-set of coolness, I quickly realized I was a pre-teen and bought Hanson’s Middle of Nowhere. 

But really, what was the first album you ever bought yourself? 

*the fact that I can now shred both of these songs on Rock Band just furthers my love for them.

Aren’t you cold? 2.0

Click to read Version 1.0

Me: I’m so cold.

Co-worker / Jerk*: That’s what you get for being a woman!  

 I don’t know if it’s because of, or in spite of these charming exchanges – but either way, I really like my job.

(*He’s not really a jerk.  He’s actually very nice and calls me when I’m driving home through tornado-esque weather to make sure I’m ok.)

No Bugs, No Hassles

Every time I see a pest control truck, I think back to last semester when I was the project manager for a Yellow Pages campaign through the YPA Collegiate Advertising Competition, and our client was Terminix.  I’m reminded of the absurd amount of research that we all did in the making of our campaigns, and of the fact that I know waaay more about pest control than is neccesary in the life of a twenty two year old kid (junior) adult.  

This morning on the way to work, I drove by a Terminix truck and I realized that this very thing is what I like best about having majored in advertising: learning about all sorts of different things, all the time, even if it’s something as random as Terminix.

Squeeze Me Tighter!

 

(Make sure you wish Jenn a happy birthday too.)

Monty the Montauk Monster

I’ve been hearing alot about this Montauk Monster, in blogs, and more recently via CNN, Newsday and more.  

I know people think it’s possibly some sort of guerrilla marketing tactic (for the devil?), or it could possibly be a turtle that’s seen better days, or maybe even the bringer of doom for mankind.  But it’s been a while now, and there’s been no concrete evidence of it being any of the aforementioned, so naturally, I fear that it is indeed a monster.

Not too long ago, stemming off of a conversation about Monster Hoodies, Jenn and I had a talk about our fears; her completely irrational fear of sharks, and subsequent dislike of shark week, and my more rational fear of monsters. 

Given this, I’m not going to be reading any more about Monty the Montauk Monster, because I prefer sleeping at night.  But please, at the earliest opportunity, contact me when there’s some official confirmation of it not being a monster / coming to eat me.

Thanks,

Minnie.