Category Archives: Crazy City Stories*

Personal Space Invaders*

Posted on November 8, 2012 by Shop Girl| 2 Comments

(via: http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wn2JxlJu0S0/TkFOjUD3pNI/AAAAAAAAADg/W_bqBqyWm8k/s1600/personal-space-invader.jpg)

I adore Seinfeld.

The concepts for the show are so simplistic it’s ridiculous, but they are sometimes SO true to life that I can’t even handle it. Sometimes things happen to me and in my head I immediately imagine how it would play out in a Seinfeld episode.

Yesterday I had one such occurrence.

For a while now I’ve been searching online for a second-hand play pen. I had a very specific style in mind, and I was hoping to get a good deal as they retail from $175 – 200 new in stores. On Saturday I spotted the exact playpen I had been searching for, so I immediately contacted the owner. She sold it to me for $35, which was an unbelievable steal.

We made arrangements for me to come and pick it up yesterday afternoon. Finally finding what I had been searching for for such a bargain left me on a bit of a high, so I decided to stop off at Value Village on the way home to see if my lucky streak would continue.

I didn’t find anything for me, but it was certainly Ruby’s lucky day. I found some ridiculously cute jeans, winter boots, running shoes and a cool new toy for under $10. Win? I think yes.

My luck ran out when I headed for the checkout–there was already a line-up and only two cashiers were open. I picked a lane and settled in to wait.

I casually glanced around the store, but as I slowly made my way closer to the front I started experiencing the strangest sensation.

It felt like someone was breathing in my ear.

I tried to do a subtle over-the-shoulder look on one side and didn’t see anything, so I moved to casually glance on the other side…

…and almost bumped noses with the woman standing behind me.

Seriously.

You would think that standing that close to someone would be deliberate, right? You’d expect to find them creepily staring at you, rubbing their palms together.

This woman seemed completely oblivious that I was even there. I turned more fully to try and get her attention to indicate that she was a little too close for comfort, but was busy looking everywhere but me.

That’s when I knew: she was a personal space invader.

After a minute of standing so close I was beginning to feel uncomfortable, so I took a step forward. Maybe she had moved to let someone in behind her, hence her proximity to me. So, my moving forward should solve the problem, right?

WRONG.

As I took a step forward, she moved with me. It was almost like we were spooning. Unintentionally. Standing up. In a check-out line.

*cringe*

I tried leaning forward onto my stroller, but I sensed that she was moving even closer so I immediately stood back up. So, instead of turning and asking her to remove herself from my personal bubble, I did the next most rational thing…

Picture this, if you will: I rolled my stroller forward a little bit with one leg, but kept one foot back. I then started leaning forward on the handles, but as she leaned with me I jutted my elbow way out.

It was quite a lovely chicken wing move.

My foot and elbow prevented her from getting too close, and gave me a much needed respite from this personal space invader. Luckily I was soon called to the front and was able to make my purchases and leave.

It was such an awkwardly funny situation that I couldn’t help but channel a little Elaine Benes as I tried to find a way to be comfortable with the personal space invader (literally) breathing down my neck.

Oh, the things I’ll endure for tiny cute shoes.

Posted in Crazy City Stories*

Snowpocalypse*

Posted on February 2, 2011 by Shop Girl| 2 Comments

Okay. You absolutely MUST watch this video. I think I just died laughing. hahaha

The storm sort of hit us–but it wasn’t the mammoth mother storm that we were expecting. WATCH.

Posted in Crazy City Stories*

What did you just say?

Posted on January 31, 2011 by Shop Girl| 10 Comments

In early December the Hubster’s parents came to visit.

They moved out to the East Coast in 2009, and this was their first trip back since the move. As we live in a teeny apartment that is jammed to the ceiling with our stuff, they stayed with The Hubster’s grandparents and aunt and uncle, and drove out to see us after we finished work each day. We’d drop all our work stuff, change quickly and head out for that evening’s adventure.

As we were driving one night, we passed a tiny little restaurant. The sign caught my father-in-law’s eye.

FIL: “Sushit & T? What kind of a name is that?!”

The Hubster, his mom and I all turned to gape at him. My father-in-law never swears. It was so shockingly hilarious that we all erupted into waves of laughter and tried to figure out what on earth he was talking about. Embarrassed, he tried to justify his previous statement and pointed to the sign as we passed.

FIL: “Right there! Look! Sushit & T!”

This is what he saw:

Sushit & T Restaurant

Of course, this only made us laugh harder. The Hubster’s Mom has long believed that her husband is colorblind, and now had another piece to prove her theory.

MIL: “That doesn’t say Sushit & T, it’s SUSHI T&T!”

FIL: “What? No it doesn’t.”

MIL: “Yes dear, it does. What colour are the letters?”

FIL: … (no comment)

I don’t think that the Hubster stopped laughing throughout the entire conversation. You see, this is what the sign really looks like.

Sushi T & T Restaurant

While the letters are close together and could be mistaken as one word, the two colors tend to leave readers with a different interpretation than the one my father-in-law had.

Of course, every time we pass it now it’s all we can read. The Hubster has since been there to eat and said the food was fab, nothing like the… err, “poopy” name of the restaurant.

Posted in Crazy City Stories*

Trick or Treat?!

Posted on November 1, 2009 by Shop Girl| Leave a comment

When I was 13, my mom told me it was time to stop trick or treating. At the time I was devastated… how on earth could I survive November without a pillow case of candy hidden in my closet? Sad, I know.

Eventually I got over being the voluntold candy-hander-outer and for years Halloween wasn’t really a big deal. I learned that sneaking candy out of the family’s candy bowl was kinda fun and I didn’t really need all the dress-up stuff, and didn’t bother dressing up until my first year of university (on the night the Hubster and I first saw each other!) and I became the “Lady bug Girl”.

(The night before I wore it out and first saw the Hubster)

Since that time, I haven’t really bothered with Halloween, and if it weren’t for all the decorations that adorn store windows I’d probably completely forget about it… in fact, the first year the Hubs and I were married, I did. haha! He had to work that night so I was alone in our apartment and as soon as it got dark out I kept getting these sporadic knocks on my front door. Having seen entirely too many episodes of CSI (I hadn’t fallen in love with Law & Order: SVU yet) I was convinced it was a serial killer coming to take my life. (*sigh* I know…)

After the 5th knock or so, I crept to the door and yelled “WHO ARE YOU?!” through the door in a panicky voice (trying to sound brave. and tough.). Preparing to hear Vincent Price’s laugh in Thriller I was a might set back when I heard two timid, tiny voices cry, “Trick-or-treat?!” in utter confusion. Unable to muster the courage to face their parents and tell them I was convinced their children were serial killers, I collapsed on the floor in ~~relief~~ shame and told them I didn’t have any candy. Through the door. Which was locked. And bolted.

I think the Hubster laughed for an hour when I told him later that night.

Anyway.

Halloween and I aren’t really great friends. I think it’ll probably be more exciting when we have children of our own and candy to ~~steal~~ inspect for danger, but until then, forget costumes and candy–I have a whole new use for Halloween: SHOPPING. Seriously. Shopping on Halloween night when everyone is out trick or treating is magical. It’s SUCH a well-kept secret! I had to work until 7:30 last night, then the Hubster and I had to run some errands. I normally loathe shopping at Walmart due to the utter chaos that is always inevitably waiting when you walk through the front doors, but last night it was… peaceful. We were able to get in, grab everything we needed and get out in record time. No line-ups. No screaming children. No mess. No fuss. Love.

It was the same at the grocery store… I think it shall be my new Halloween tradition. Next year I’ll try the mall and let you know how it goes. Be excited.

We did try and honor the spirit of Halloween by renting a horror-ish movie to watch last night. I don’t really “do” scary movies as hey, let’s be honest, my imagination is HUGE. HUGE. And that stuff stays with me for days after I watch it. For example: the first time the Hubster introduced me to the Alien movies I was so scared I made him stay up until 3am watching Bambi with me afterward so I wouldn’t dream about having my face sucked off.

*sigh*

However, I wanted to try. I’ve been trying to make peace with scary movies lately by trying to watch more of them. In the past year I’ve watched The Shining, The Strangers, and then last night, The Exorcism of Emily Rose. To my surprise, I didn’t have to cover my face nearly as often as I thought I would, and I actually really liked the storyline. However, the Hubs has been informed that if I ever, ever wake up at 3am he will be joining me. Now that’s love. :)

We also had a good laugh remembering our trick-or-treating days after I saw a very tiny, very cute ballerina prance past our car. After fondly recalling at the best / worst treats (who gives out pop?! I mean really. Way to drag a kid down. haha) we started talking about some of the funniest / most bizarre ones we ever received. There were always a few homemade ones that made their way into my pillow cases, as well as the treats meant to “inform” the children, like toothpaste or pencils.

However, we each had a winner… when the Hubs was little he was given Dairy Queen coupons instead of candy. I’m sorry, but unless you are handing me an actual blizzard, then I’ll just take a Reeces cup, please. :)

My all-time favourite was the year I got 5 lucky pennies–not just any pennies, lucky ones–from a cute little old lady that lived up the street from my old house. Sad as I was not to add to my ever-growing chocolate collection, I kept those babies for ever. Or at least for a day. You know.

Did you ever get an weird / funny / interesting treats as a kid? I sometimes think I want to be that person who gives out bizarre things on Halloween just to give people funny stories. The Hubster’s suggestion was to give out squares of toilet paper (we had just restocked at Walmart. ha).

…or maybe I’ll just give out suckers. haha

So lovelies, that was our little Halloween… and now on to Christmas! WOO WOO! Fifty-four sleeps!

Posted in Crazy City Stories*, My thoughts*

Pick-Up Line Offenders*

Posted on February 7, 2009 by Shop Girl| Leave a comment

I sometimes think there is an old woman trapped inside my body.

Despite this theory, I went out last night.

(no seriously, I actually left my apartment and went… to a pub. *GASP* I know, CRAZY, right??)

I actually had a really good time too… but here’s is how I know there is an old woman living inside me:

1) Karog and I didn’t leave until 10pm. I actually had to coach myself into thinking that 10pm was not that late… because in my head that was 2 hours past jammie time. (jammies = pjs)

2) I wanted to go to see some friends and wish BD* a happy birthday, but before I left I kept thinking that jammies + book + Hubster + sleep = happy Shop Girl. Who needs to go out… ever? haha

3) The pub was loud. I used to like loud bars… now I like bed.

4) Despite glorious conversation, after 10 minutes I was ready to crawl under the coats on the couch next to me and sleep. Thank goodness we had some entertainment, right Karog? HAH

5) I kept looking at people and thinking they all looked underage… (since when are 12 year olds allowed in bars?)

Okay, so they weren’t really twelve, but they looked it. Scary.

6) I forgot about “bar clothes”. I went out in my most comfortable shoes and jeans in my biggest, warmest most comfortable beige sweater. I was definitely the the, um, warmest(?) person there.

I am so old and married. But you know what–I kinda really love it. I really did end up having a great time last night, but I’m definitely not someone who needs to go out every weekend anymore. I did the whole social butterfly thing in first year (I was out and about every day–my average bedtime was 4am and there was no such thing as 9am classes…) but now I’m really quite content being a little old wife woman who reads books in her jammies before going to bed at 7pm.

I don’t really go to bed at 7pm… but wouldn’t that be lovely?!

But, I must absolutely share with you the highlight of my evening last night… I mean, it was unbelievable.

I love bad pickup lines. I don’t enjoy when they are tried on me, but I love love love when they happen to other people and they live to retell the experience. The best (and worst) line that was ever used on me happened when I was 18, and nothing has ever topped it. I was asked to dance by a reasonably good-looking and very well-dressed older guy (he was maybe 23 or 24). He had good shoes on, so I said yes.

After about 13 seconds I knew I wasn’t interested…but apparently we were dancing to the world’s longest song. While we danced he progressively invaded my personal space. My little bubble grew smaller and smaller until it was almost non-existent and I was leaning back so far I was practically limboing on the dance floor. In a smooth move he pulled me really close so that his face was next to my ear and said:

Guy: “Hey… did you say your prayers this morning?”

Me: (inching back as far as possible) “…um…”

Guy: (looking deeply into my eyes / soul) “I did… and I think they’ve been answered.”

Me: “…that’s … nice…”

I then proceeded to look around wildly for an escape… and, finding one as the song ended, ran to my nearest male friend and suction-cupped myself to his side while this nice-shoe-wearing-bad-pick-up-line-personal-space-invader circled hungrily until he found new prey. (I guess I wasn’t the only answer to his prayers that morning… *sigh*)

I know what you’re thinking–how on earth did I resist that? It’s wondrous that I didn’t propose to him right then and there, after all, I was the answer to his prayers.

It just really makes me wonder… what the heck are some guys thinking when they say crap like that? Does anyone really believe that those lines actually work? I almost wanted to send him to a Bad Pick-Up Lines Anonymous meeting to get him some help… (do they have a reality TV show about this yet?)

Anyway… last night, amidst all my lovely teacher friends a Pick-Up Line Offender (PULO) was among us. As he sat talking to a friend of mine I listened in and was able to pick up some real gems. First things first, girls should be called “chicks”. I was a little taken aback that he needed to relay this to my friend–I mean, really, I thought all guys knew that girls loooove to be called chicks. I’m pretty sure it’s our favourite. Mine anyway. I wish everyone would just not use my name and call me “Chick” instead… wouldn’t you?

Well, apparently there were a few girls nearby who didn’t share my deep affinity for this nickname. For some strange and unknown reason, they didn’t appreciate being referred to as “chicks” and told the PULO so. He (like me) was flabbergasted by this revelation and tried to explain. This was the explanation:

PULO: (to my friend as I eavesdropped/listened in) “Hey man… so I was talking to those chicks over there and they got all upset that I called them chicks. They, like, didn’t get it, man. They should take it as a compliment… being called a chick means I think you’re hot and I want to slam you.”

…

I’m sorry ladies–I’m not sure if he’s single… butttt I have an inkling he just might be! haha!

If you think you’ve got a pick-up line offender story that beats my prayer one, bring it on. I’d love to hear it! haha

Shop Chick*