I am a public monster.
I am a tornado of impropriety, smashing social barriers and hurting feelings with more force than an F5 rips through the dreams of trailer home owners. I skip from interaction to interaction with the hopes of first being charming, and then praying for at least passably human, and then wandering away with a sure knowledge that I have left that person with part of their soul missing.
It’s usually because I’m laughing at something I shouldn’t be, which makes me something of a sociopath.
It’s Not Like He Knew I Was Laughing
When my paternal grandfather died, his funeral was very small: just my sister, mother, maternal grandmother and grandfather, my uncle, and me. It was held in a very small chapel with barely enough room for the casket and the six of us–if you moved wrong, you might just accidentally kick the casket.
When they brought in the worst fucking bagpiper to bleat out Amazing Grace, I was gone. It was already so awkward and horrible and in that tiny chapel with what sounded like a leprosy-riddled sheep screaming through a bull horn–there was no containing my laughter. It was only when my grandmother smacked me over the head with a Bible that I stopped.
It’s Like Watching Green Mile Except Nothing Good Happens
One night, I came in from playing outside to hear my sister screaming and crying in her room with the vacuum running and an unbelievably loud humming. It was alarming to say the least–I ran down the hall and threw open the door to find what still remains one of the funniest sights I’ve ever seen.
My sister, being mauled by a massive swarm of gnats and moths, beating them out of her four-poster bed drapes, and viciously trying to vacuum them as fast as she could.
She had left a light on in her room, her window open, and her door closed for several hours at night. Seeing as how we lived on a farm, where bugs are fucking made, it was a shitshow. I couldn’t help her–I should have but I couldn’t. It was too amazing to see her try to gang-fight the world’s smallest bugs while surrounded by pastel tulle and Laura Ashley ruffles.
You know, now that I repeat the story, it sounds more like Stephen King than anything else.
IS MY FACE EVEN ON MY HEAD ANYMORE IT’S COOL LOL JK
At the Stock Show and Rodeo in Denver every year, a team of ‘horsemen’ performs in between events. It’s always a new theme every year, and it’s always pretty terrible. Once it was Russian horsemanship where everyone fell off. Once it was The OK Corral and Doc Holliday would have shot himself to spare the memory. Once, everyone just held a shitton of fireworks near their horses’ heads, which is an awful idea 1) indoors and 2) because horses don’t dig fire too much.
During the Fireworks year, my family sat right on the fence, eye-level with all the horse dicks you could imagine. The poor woman next to me had never been to a rodeo ever and MY GOD, WAS IT MAGICAL FOR HER. Funny as she was, I didn’t want to fault her for her lack of knowledge, regardless of how unbelievably ignorant her comments were. She was, however, loudly and obnoxiously mystified by these horsemen. She OOOHED and AAAHED and MAJESTICKED away for a solid 10 minutes and I managed to contain my laughter. Then, a Clydesdale ran by and off of his hoof came the biggest dirt clod I have ever seen in my life. It was the size of a globe at least, and it nailed her right in the face.
I lost it. Loudly and horribly, I lost it. I tried to turn away from her, my mom tried to punch me in the throat to stop me. The woman’s one and only response to this event which must have rocked her from here to fucking Jupiter?
“Oh goodness, that smarted a bit.”
What’s the funniest thing you’ve ever seen in public?– Favorite Comment From The Last Post: From Lisa Newlin: I feel like the pose from the aerobic self-defense video could be combined with the I got gas commercial to really create something special. I had no idea this website existed, but I suspect it will be an even bigger time suck than googling videos of puppies playing together. Time. Suck. (But totally worth it.)