Being a regular

When you live in a semi-small town, are a creature of habit, and in addition make a strong impression on people visually, as I do, you are officially recognized and gain the status of a “regular” just about everywhere. It can be a nuisance and a blessing. You get a lot of attention, awkward at times, but beneficial as well. It started at me favorite bar, Hell, back when I was more of a barfly. The place where everyone truly knew my name. The bouncer would carry me up and down the stairs and occasionally park my car when it was raining. The bartender would greet me with a smile and “red wine, Ann?” then proceed to give me a very full glass. I go to the bank and the tellers make a big deal about not needing to see my ID: “We know you, Ann”! At the CVS on the corner, the Wynnsong movie theater, and Cold Stone Creamery, I often hear “hey friend, where you been?” and “haven’t seen you in awhile, you been okay?” Lately it’s TCBY, where I frequent often. About two weeks ago, I was having a yogurt at the Chapel Hill store when a friendly man approached my table to introduce himself, “Hi, I’m Bob.” I may have been alarmed until I noticed the TCBY on his shirt. He told me he was the new owner, that he had seen me there last weekend and earlier that week at the Durham store, and that he was happy to have good and loyal customers like me. It was sort of embarrassing, but then I considered how I could use the situation to my advantage. At just the right moment, I plan to share with Bob my requests and suggestions: more consistent and greater selection of no sugar added flavors, complete abolishment of the bubble gum flavor (yuck, big mistake!), and if possible, use of better cones that don’t seep through so easily. Maybe he’s locked into the cone deal due to the franchise thing, but it’s worth a shot. Yesterday I was in the Chapel Hill store again, at my same table no less, when I saw Bob. He said “Hi! Haven’t seen you in a few days, and I was worried you were sick.” It was nice to think Bob cared about my health and wellbeing, and actually, I had been a bit under the weather that weekend. However, I had indeed been there the two days before as well, I just sent Paul in to retrieve a cone while I waited in the car. I didn’t tell Bob this. Paul will meet Bob in his own time.

My first blog

Welcome to Life on Three Wheels! The three wheels refer of course to my sweet ride - my black scooter with red velvet seat. Right now I am at home sitting on the floor, admittedly watching "American Idol" auditions in the background. The contemporary freak show for sure. It's been an interesting day. I fell asleep on the couch last night watching the A&E "Sopranos" reruns (I like TV....ALOT) and woke up to snow on the ground outside (in NC?!) and water all over the floor in the living room. We were up at 5 because of the terrible gurgling of the my boyfriend's fish tank. It was no wonder I was having dreams about thunder storms! The 75 gallon fish tank in the living room sprung a leak. We spent the next few hours mopping up water with towels and sheets. I had been wanting new towels, so now I have a good excuse to buy some (I like shopping....ALOT). Paul has to drain the entire tank and move the fish to the tank upstairs. We hope they all survive. I stayed at home all day trudging across the wet floor. I went through 3 pairs of wet pants. I work from home these days, designing and teaching online courses. I'm one of those "Independent Scholars," which means I'm over-educated and under-employed. But that's a subject for another blog. I also do my so-called "independent research." Right now I'm working on a paper about the black developmentally disabled and potentially sexually violent character on the second season of "Deparate Housewives." I'm reading an awesome book called "Toms, Coons, Mulattoes, Mammies, and Bucks." The representation of minorities in film and television is really sad in a lot of ways. Yesterday was an adventure, hence why I had a few drinks and fell asleep on the couch. We drove to Charlotte from Durham and spent about 3 hours in the flurorescent lighting and international crowd at the US Immigration office to renew Paul's Greencard. He's Canadian. His old card was more than a little old. The picture on it was from when he was 5 years old. The workers at Immigration kept saying "Is that YOU?" It was quite an experience. At a certain point I made Paul move to the front of the waiting area because I couldn't take the added torture of all the restless children surrounding us. One little girl, who was cute and meant well I'm sure, pointed out to her dad about 5 times that I had no fingers, until he had to distract her with a magazine she couldn't yet read. Then I spent a few minutes watching another little girl pick her nose and eat it (what IS the evolutionary compulsion to do that!?) So we got up front and had the pleasure of watching the TV. I saw all of "All My Children" (Erica Cane is still there and ageless!) and "One Life to Live." The evil transsexual on AMC was amusing. The police felt that his/her self-confusion was no excuse for murder. In a way soaps change so much, and then again, hardly at all. We made it out alive nonetheless and home with sore butts. More tomorrow......