The "Did I really just see that?" thread

Good thing I said "would" put and not "will" put.

 

A woman brushing her teeth traveling 65 mph on the expressway. And not missing a stroke.

 

A guy sitting in his wheelchair at a bus stop using binoculars to see if the bus was coming. Then again, there are a couple apartment buildings near the bus stop - maybe he was ... Oh, never mind.

 

I saw a horse-drawn carriage moving through a parking lot of Chicago's Cabrini Green housing project.

 

Ochocinco kicking.

 

A dude in the bathroom here at work, at the end urinal, with his pants around his ankles while he took a leak. Creeeeeepy.

Also, a guy cutting his fingernails over the bathroom trashcan. Again, just weird.

 

In line to buy a ticket to the hangover with about six buddies. We were pretty wasted, and weren't sure if we were seeing things.

Nope, not just us. The whole movie theater was turned around to see a 500 pound man in a yellow sundress, earings, pearls, sandals and a BEARD entering the theater. It was awful.

 

This guy on the train home from Coney Island recently.

 

Just be glad Slappy took off the Alabama unitard [crossthread]

 

Just got home from a walk down my little main street here in Midelt, Morocco.

Saw three guys walking together, one with a T-shirt that read "Amateur Gynocologist," and I couldn't explain to my friend why it so funny. I'm sure the dude wearing it can't read English.

And just before, a man walking down the little pedestrian path, carrying a monkey. Yes, I've seen them here before, but it's a pretty rare. And this guy let the monkey crawl under his shirt while they sat down together for about 10 minutes. It even creeped my friend out.

That was today. Last week in Al Jadida, I saw camels on the beach and before that in Rabat there was a dude wearing a Canadiens sweater.

 

This happened to me at lunch today. I sent this out in an email to some friends, but I thought it was appropriate for this particular thread. I am so dumb.

So I was enjoying lunch today with a coworker. And we’re sitting at a deli, facing the window, watching this legendary rain storm. It came out of nowhere…crazy wind gusts, sheets of water, booming thunder, flooding in the parking lot. And this storm doesn’t stop. Normally when a when storm comes on fast, it leaves quickly. Not this one.

So Alex (my coworker) and I are just staring out the window with the rest of the customers. And I notice a blue blur out of the corner of my eye. It’s a Nissan truck rolling quickly through the parking lot. And it appears to be driverless. Other diners take notice, and we are all gaping out the window as it picks up momentum and careens across the lot. After scraping along three parked cars directly across from us, the truck impales a silver Pontiac and finally comes to a stop.

Voices start rising; chairs are scraping across the floor as customers advance toward the window, waiting to see what happens next. Waiting for the driver to appear. But he’s obviously inside the restaurant and has no idea that he forgot to put his truck in park. As it becomes more and more obvious that something has occurred outside, a red-headed bearded dude who looks vaguely like Timothy Busfield saunters by our table and peers out the window.

It’s Busfield’s truck. He emits some sort of yelp and goes flying out the door into the rain. At which point, I swear to God, he removes his clothing. There is much conjecture among the diners as to why he felt the need to do this. Beard boy just rips his shirt over his head and spastically pulls his shorts over his flip flops. And he starts stalking in a circle around his truck, wearing only his boxers. The entire restaurant is laughing. This is one of the weirdest scenes I have ever witnessed. I, of course, whip out my camera phone because I love the absurd. And as I’m snapping away at Busfield, a girl at the table next to me says, “Hey, can you send me a picture?” Of course! So she tells me her telephone number, and I send her the photo of the sort of hot, wet, moron standing in the driving rain. This elicits requests from two other diners who want to share in the photographic evidence. I happily comply.

Now, the drivers of the scraped vehicles are one by one realizing that their cars have been damaged. And a crowd is gathering outside. And it’s still raining like crazy, and of course one woman in particular is wearing a white shirt. A thin white shirt. So a table full of young software nerds next to me begins taking pictures of her with their cell phones. And there is a cry of “that’s inappropriate!” from a table of women next to them. So they point at ME and said, “That young lady was taking pictures of the naked guy!” And I was, and they’re right. So now I’m receiving scowling looks from these bitches two tables down. And my face is turning red.

I turn to my coworker. Time to leave. We make a run for it. I’m in three inch heels that I should have removed before making this sprint. My right foot slips out of the back strap, causing me to fly sideways, landing with my right hand planted into the sidewalk cement. And Alex is half-laughing, half helping me up, and we cover the next ten feet to my car, and throw ourselves into my crappy Hyundai. At which point, it becomes apparent that I have left my sun roof open. And it’s raining in my fucking car. And I’m now completely flustered. And when I get flustered, I make really stupid decisions. More stupid than usual. Plus, I’m a woman and this involves a car. So what do I do? I throw open my car door and RUN BACK INSIDE THE RESTAURANT. I just left Alex sitting in the rain! I wasn’t thinking! And I have the keys, so she can’t turn my car on and close the roof. And I’m looking out the restaurant window, and she’s just sitting there, staring at me through the glass like I’ve grown a fetus on my head.

So, I realize that I have done a shitty thing. And while Alex could run back inside the restaurant, she looks too stunned/pissed off to physically leave the vehicle. So, another dash. I remove my shoes, make the sprint through the rain again, jump in, start the car, and slam my hand on the “close” button for my sunroof. I don’t think I breathed during any of this. And we just sit there. My ass is soaking wet, my hair is soaking wet, the windows are all foggy, and Alex is starting straight ahead. She won’t look at me. Her hair is hanging down in thick strips across her face, her mascara is running like it stole something, and her clothing is plastered to her body. We wait for the car to defog, not talking. My phone beeps. I look down. I have a picture message from a phone number I don’t recognize. It’s of me. Mid-trip. Straddling the pavement. Hand planted on the cement. It came from someone inside that restaurant. I texted back “Thank you.” I got back “You’re welcome.”

 

Fucking. Awesome.