Forced Interactions

We are going to Mr. Morgan's company picnic tomorrow, which I almost always greet with dismay, not because I don't like the people but rather because he leaves me frequently standing alone awkward. Thus it is an exercise in forcing me to be social or lean against a tree drumming my fingers on a plastic cup while people speculate shit as though my hearing doesn't work.

I go through the annual mental plot of "I'm too white, too fat, too flat chested" whichever that year calls for although the white is pretty standard. This year offers a new challenge as my toe, in my opinion, has not made one single change and the picnic is at a very sandy beach. I still haven't figured out how I am going to do that but I can't really sit in the car for 4 hours and just wave to people.

They always engage in volleyball and croquet. Might have spelled it wrong, but think Heathers. When I think of that game I see those balls and mallots as toe missles, no thanks.

If I can manage it, I am fine to get to the water area and just sit and read or keep my camera on hoping to catch some form of stupidity, whether it's part of his group or not. I'm always on the look for someone fucking up, as it helps me to feel better about how often I do the same. The look of shock that washes over a person's face when commit a truly dumbfuck action never gets old to me and is never wasted on my camera card.

A favorite example of great timing is below. Omy way to work one morning this van passed me on the right and I glanced, then said Daaaaaaamn! Someone gone and fucked up your ride homie! The entire side of the car was spray painted with some, well, pretty damn clever obscenities. Homie glanced back with a look of "yeah I fucking know. thanks." How I avoided a car wreck I don't know, but on the bumper it read "I"M RICK JAMES BITCH!" and I HAD to try to snap the photo. Homie saw me scrambling to drive and photograph and I thought he might break fast on me but didn't.



Below is a photo from vacation, the Hersh Mansion or some fucking place that was very impressive, but entirely tour guilded and I honestly can't stand for 2.5 hours in a 90 degree house without a sit down. Yes, there was a scene at one point where the entire tour got to focus just on me because the guide thought it was a good idea to instead of asking me quietly if I was okay, announce to the entire group of 60 that some bitch to the left was turning purple and would a medic be required. We all know how I respond to being singled out and embarrassed like that. But we weren't thrown out. I don't know why Mr. Morgan looks so chubbish he WAY isn't, the big to small ratio is accurate, he's is just not that wide. I think the claw like pose of his hand on my back is indicative of his desire to go Freddy Krueger on me for causing so much trouble. Weird photo, I think I almost even see a man boob..... it's seriously an illusion.


-DM