I've often wished I were a more normal person, but the sad reality is, weirdness follows me around like Tom follows Jerry.
I can go almost nowhere without strangeness happening, and it's not just that it happens when I'm there, it usually happens to Actual Me (see this and #2 of this post) or, at the least, in my immediate proximity (like this.)
I'm the magnet, situational comedy the metal. (May I remind you. Also.)
Though this makes me an awkward person to travel with, it can also be fairly entertaining. Except for the time said "awkwardness" happened to be a near-miss with a would-be band of mayhem-makers on a flight from the Dominican Republic to O'Hare airport. Please don't ask Cory to corroborate this story, because it's still a bone of contention. BUT I WAS THERE. I
All of that to say, I've been keeping a secret.
I'm so sorry.
It happened back in October and it's taken me this long to feel comfortable sharing. I don't know why. Or maybe I do. Whatever.
At the very, very last second, I spotted these, fell in love, and brought them back to my hotel with me, but that just sounds creepy.
I think they were hidden from me until it counted. No one else saw them. They were a mirage rainbow boot miracle. I LOVE THEM VERY MUCH.
Yada, yada, I wear them all the time.
They work with everything, or at least I say they do.
It's no surprise that I wore them to the airport when I was leaving for a couple of back-to-back trips. What WAS surprising was when I was sitting mindlessly at my gate in a chair that almost seemed too fancy to be for a regular person, when a man approached me. I saw him from my peripheral vision, but dared not look up, because he must have just had poor depth perception and was actually heading somewhere else. He had to have just been a crooked walker.
When it was obvious he was getting ready to speak to me, I looked up to see a youngish, handsomeish man wearing a full suit and tie.
Too bad for me, Cory and I were just wrapping up a Blacklist bender, so when the man wordlessly passed me a single, folded piece of paper, I assumed he was getting ready to bomb the joint or abduct me.
I remember I was wearing a coral sweater, and I'm sure my cheeks matched its hue as I stammered, "Uh, for, uh, me?"
He nodded. Just once.
Handed me the paper, then turned and walked away. Without a single word.
I was suddenly feeling clammy and weird. Though I wanted to know what the paper said, I was terrified to look.
From the corner of my eye, I watched the suited man hand over his boarding pass, and board a plane headed for It Totally Doesn't Matter. He never looked back, which was comforting and interesting, in light of the slip of paper in my claw hands.
Only then did I unfold it, quite sheepishly, my eyes darting around the perimeter.
And then I fainted dead away.
Because WHO does this stuff happen to? Was this real? Were there cameras somewhere?
I texted Sarah, who dropped every important thing she was doing to engage in the sort of banter we haven't enjoyed since college.
Following much discussion, we agree he wasn't hitting on me, which is the only way this story can be retold, so hallelu. There are a hundred possible conclusions, but the one that seems most plausible is that this was a man simply overtaken by the power of the unicorn boots.
Was he fashion-savvy? Yes.
Did he carefully protect his anonymity? He sure did.
He also wisely left his options open for 2015 with that "this year" remark.
Don't get too excited, Shannan.
Every business man on the planet knows 2014 was lacking in "hot" footwear.
As for me, I'm heading to Dallas for a few days, by way of the O'Hare airport. I'm sure I'll come home with stories.
Single Weirdest Person Always,