Sprialing out of Control

I was looking back at some of my posts from when I started this blog in 2006. I remembered starting it because, among other things, I was upset about a particular person who had stolen money from me in my own home and had threatened my roommate at the time that she'd commit suicide, insinuating that it would be my roommate's fault, because my roommate had asked one of our pastors how to deal with the fact that the woman had also blatantly stolen money off of a table when we'd been out with a large group of friends.

It's been awhile at this point and I can actually laugh at the picture of this woman stealing cash from my purse while my roommate and I were "shopping" in our pantry for choice foods we could send her home with. We filled two large whole foods bags with food, picking out our favorite rice dishes and canned goods, leaving behind things like canned peas (don't even ask me how canned peas got in our house, I am vehemently opposed). Anyway, I think that's funny now.

At the time though, I was very angry. So looking back at my recent posts, I was wondering how I balanced the angst with still being interesting and keeping a sense of humor. It turns out, that more strange things happened around me at the time (or at least I noticed strange things more).

So I haven't posted particularly recently because I am still fairly mopey and restless; feeling pulled somewhere else, but also not knowing what or where that "somewhere else" is. I also don't know where the funny went. . .

I think, however, the 2006 me would have rushed to tell you all about what happened two weeks ago when we were out on the common. 2009 me is just tired and no longer finds these stories as fresh and charming when they happen (it takes two weeks for her to recover her sense of humor about it -- what can I say, grey hairs, and no sense of humor curmudgeon-dom is just around the corner). Also, as a warning, when I typed this up, it lost some of the funny and gained some serious length, so you might want to skim :).


Two Thursday nights ago my boy and I returned from a two week absence (you know, we'd been to the wild animal park in PA, we'd been to NY the next week etc) and you would have thought we were complete newbies the way the coffee cart we have manned for the last three years was stormed. It was like everything we'd ever taught the people about orderly lines etc. had gone out the window. People were five or six across and they were shoving and pushing (just to clarify, we don't give out free crack, diamonds, or liquor, we've got coffee, hot tea, iced tea, hot chocolate and bottled water). They wanted the bottles of water. They always do. Let's review, they're bottles of water, not vodka, they're worth 12.4 cents (and yes, that's an expensive item for our cart, but still, in the grand scheme of things, really?!). We told them ONE LINE holding one finger up and then putting our hands together to show they needed to move in, that we weren't serving more than single file. They pushed forward still six people across. we pushed our cart back, my boy stood in front making the universal pushing back motion to show them they needed to step back. They ignored him. I said everyone needs to take THREE steps backward. I took a large step held up one finger and said one loudly, took another large step held up two fingers and said two loudly, took a third large step and said three loudly while holding up three fingers. They laughed at me. I closed the cart.

I threw a blanket over the top told my boy to get out from in front of the cart where they had closed in on him even farther. There was no point in someone being crushed over 12 cent water. We stood like that for awhile at an impasse. They still didn't form a single line and they didn't step back. The people in the back of the line though, had no control over the people in the front. We are a religious group. I thought back on "Many who are last will be first and the first will be last." (at the time I didn't remember it was from Matthew 19:30 or the context, just the verse). So that's what we did, as the people in the front of the line crowded and continued to push, we worked our way from the back of the line forward. At one point an unsuspecting group member was pouring some iced tea and one of the women at the front of the line tried to convince him to just give her a bottle of water. As he was reaching for the water, I stopped him -- they will seriously take advantage of any possible way to get what they want and then more than what they know they're entitled to.

Anyway, after all this madness, we worked our way through the line and served everyone (the people in the front finally caught on and started squishing into one line slightly farther back). At this point the line for food had also dissipated, though apparently because we'd run out. It seemed like the night might be calming down. A man came up looking for some food, when he was told we didn't have any he started shouting about how he could break jaws and not to treat him like this because he wouldn't stand for it (mind you, we had no food, it wasn't discrimination, there was just nothing left). He veered around and continued to threaten to break jaws until he'd had enough and left still ranting, a dog barking after him a final good riddance.


The man with the dog (who had barked away the jaw breaker) approached my cart, clearly drunk, but in a cheerful mood. We chatted he got his drink and sat off to the side. When he was ready for a second drink he brought a hibiscus from one of the flower beds. I said it was sweet, but he really shouldn't pick the flowers. He took his drink and we chatted some more. He drifted away and then came back with another flower. If I hadn't realized he was drunk before, I surely would have at this point. The beer goggles were clearly in place.

It was time for our praise and worship circle and sermonette. We sang and the woman designated to speak that night began. She spoke on Ephesians and the double edged sword where we're damned to death and how God cannot associate with us because of our sinfulness and the beauty of what Christ did and what an incredible relationship that opens up for us. Or at least I think that's what she spoke about, I can't be sure.

You see, my flower wielding drunk friend by this point had pulled out some sticks and started juggling. Then, to up the ante, he turned them on. That's right he was juggling fire, behind the woman giving the sermonette. Juggling is putting it kindly, and slightly less menacingly. Really, he was throwing sticks with flames on the end up into the air and missing the catch then dipping down to pick one up while the other was thrown up in the air which he'd invariably miss.

I guess I could have skipped the build up to this point, since the fire "juggling" was really the crescendo, the truly unbelievable part of the evening, but I thought you might be interested in the build up as well.