Sometimes I Don't Want to Hear People Talk

I'm usually a pretty forgiving person. Most people who speak have nothing to say, and most people are uncomfortable with silences, so they end up saying nothing in more words than they should. I know this and I understand it and I do not begrudge most things that most people say.

A couple things this weekend, though, I heard and they rubbed me the wrong way.

"What? No Drink?"

I was chilling with Queen Bee and Politica Sunday night at my place. Some TV on DVD was watched and some red wine was consumed. We decided to take a quick walk to the grocery store to get more supplies (food, wine, etc.).

As we entered the establishment, a panhandler struck up a conversation. Here's how a conversation like this usually would go:

Him: Can I have a buck?
Me: I don't carry cash.

The end. Simple, honest, quick. Even if the person endeavors to continue the conversation, I keep walking and establish that I am not interested.

This weekend, though, following a bit of wine, I let down my guard, and it went something like this:

Him: Can I have a buck?
Me: I don't carry cash.
Him: Buy me a sandwich?
Me: A sandwich? For a buck?
Him: Nah, man.
Me: What kind of sandwich?
Him: Roast beef. And a drink. Gatorade or something.
Me: I'll buy you some Gatorade.
Him: Buy the roast beef. Get some of that ciabatta bread and they sell the (some weird brand name I'd never heard of) roast beef right there.
Me: Well, we'll see.

And I walked in. That there was no "thank you" or any sense of gratitude struck me as a bit odd, but I figured he doubted my sincerity, so I decided to get him SOMETHING to eat.

The way the purchasing worked, it fell to Queen Bee to pick out the sandwich, and she selected a $6.50 pastrami sandwich. I actually kinda wanted to eat it, myself (I rarely buy myself anything more than a $5 footlong (plus tax and tip)), but she gave it to me to give to the guy on the way out.

Me: Here you go. It's pastrami. Hope that's OK.
Him: What? Yeah. And a drink?
Me: What? Are you serious...?
Him: Thanks, man. But a Gatorade, too? [Flashes me a weak smile]
Me: No, sorry.
Him: OK.

I was not pleased on the walk back to my place, although I quickly remembered the fact that I was going back to sit on my couch with two attractive women, cuddled under a blanket drinking wine and eating delicious snacks as we watched funny shows on my HDTV. And he wasn't.

Even given that, is a legitimate "Thank you" too much to ask?

"I Had a Dream That My Whites Were Extra Bright"

After walking back from the gym today, a day I have off of work thanks to Martin Luther King Day, I took the elevator up with a pair of guys I'd never seen/met before. They knew each other and had the following exchange as I remained silent:

Guy #1: How's your day going?
Guy #2: Pretty good. Doing laundry and listening to NPR.
Guy #1: Ah... it could be worse, right?
Guy #2: Yeah. I was thinking about going to the [MLK Day] march.
Guy #1: Oh, yeah?
Guy #2: I was going to go but I had to do laundry. Otherwise I would have marched.
Guy #1: Ah.

*gag*

Setting aside whatever value I may place on marches happening in Seattle on MLK Day, I found it odd that someone else would put enough value on it to consider going... unless laundry had to be done.

That's like saying I would TOTALLY feed my cats unless there's a new episode of Fringe on.

If you want to march because it's important to you: cool. If you want to march because you want to fit in and/or pick up people of the opposite sex: fantastic.

If you want to pay lip service to the importance of the march even as you make a lame excuse for a reason you can't quite make it: that's super-lame.