I was reading a friends blog about things that have gone by the wayside. It was clever and got me to thinking about an incident 3 Saturdays ago when Greg and I were at a Farmers Market.
I had finally convinced him that this was a good idea, that Boulder wasn't such a bad place, there were just some people with open minds who lived there and they probably weren't mind-readers and wouldn't roast him in a fire if they ever found out that he is, in fact, quite conservative. He was reluctant, a bit nervous, but up for the challenge, and off we went at 7:30 to see what we could see.
It was great, I felt right at home. Lovely signs that said cool things like 'organic', 'fresh', 'Hydroponic', and the like. There was jewelry from Tibet, paintings from a local artist, and everyone was really nice. I had finally found some people I could relate to.
I was browsing the jewelry, when Greg received a phone call from his friend. Now, we have recently purchased new phones and have those very trendy little Bluetooth headsets that attach to your ear via wireless. Mine is (naturally) pink, and Greg's is grey. The downside is that my hair often covers up my headset, and people think I'm talking to myself. Greg was wearing a baseball cap this day, and apparently was dealing with the same problem. This was Boulder. People have the money for these kinds of things, but like to refrain from using them in public, as it's not really the 'down to earth' image they like to project. He was getting some weird stares, some snotty stares, and some 'wow, I can totally relate with him' kind of stares. I kept my distance. I liked talking with everyone and pretending to be a hippie myself, and Greg was seriously ruining that image.
Finally in the middle of a conversation with a guitarist, I glanced over to see a middle-aged man with long dreadlocks, and ratty clothes start to approach Greg; who, true to nature chatted obliviously on and on. I noticed that this man, too, was talking to himself. . . minus the headset and phone of course. He slowly approached, muttering and whatnot, and finally came to stand beside Greg. They were both looking at across the lawn talking to invisible friends, until Mr. Dreadlocks decided to link the conversations all together. He nudged Greg and spoke a bit louder, something completely incomprehensible.
Greg stooped. He stared. And then, with the grace that only someone who is NOT from Boulder can do, he brandished his first finger and pointed in a very aristocratic way at his ear. Which then revealed to the man that Greg, at least, was talking to someone real and had no time for another conversation.
Mr Dreadlocks didn't seem to mind and shuffled off. I on the other hand was appalled by Greg's behavior. Greg was miffed that he had been interrupted and then scolded!
We went home shortly thereafter.
And thus ended our adventures into the wide world of Farmers Markets. Greg is of the mind that a Safeway produce section is much quieter and more stable environment to shop at anyways. Besides, people don't interrupt you when you're talking to yourself there.
Oh, so funny!
ReplyDeleteWe're kinda like that too... Reminds me of when we were engaged, we took the myers briggs personality profile to hopefully shed some light on our relationship. Once we'd taken the tests, though, we were each skeptical about the usefullness of the test. I mean, they were obviously trying to craft the questions so that there was no right answer, and people with different personalities would answer differently. But some of those questions! There was only one one answer you could imagine anyone giving...
We both agreed that the really bizarrely tilted one was the one about empathy vs. efficiency.
Yeah, and wouldn't you know it, our respective answers were as different as they were emphatic.
Which is a good thing, I think. He makes sure that we get where we're going, and I make sure that we love people along the way.