On Being Rather Silly....
It's been far too long since I've done something silly just for the sake of... well, being silly... (something like... getting kicked out of a store for playing a game of "Camping in the Deep, Dark Forest" in their camping section, using the tents [we call it 'test driving them'] and their camping gear to make said game more realistic)...
It's been far too long since I've messed with mundane people's sense of reality.
And so, today, I took it upon myself two kill these two birds with one stone.
But I said to myself, "Self," said I, "we ought to share in the fun. Why hoard the experience, right?"
And so it was that I rang one of my paramedic buddies to see if she had time to... uh... go wreak havoc.
Heh heh... she DID.
I went out sporting a lovely Pagan-ish type tye-dye dress with fish-net style back - and my daughter's Renn Festival headpiece - a lovely thing with ribbons streaming, flowers abounding, and lots of sparklish foliage. (She likes things that sparkle, you see).
My buddy went out sporting a short pair of shorts and a tank top with sandals - and a lovely floor length wine-coloured velvet cape.
We went to the grocer's mart. Two of them, actually. The first being a regular-ol' mainstream type grocer's mart. Having decided we would stick with the Renn Festival schtick, we spoke only in the worst Old English we could possibly muster... WHILE she was seated on the front of a kiddie cart. You know, plastic pickup truck that wee ones can ride in, with the shopping cart on what would be the "bed" of the truck... she perched herself regally upon the truck, and off we went.
So it was that we aquired many strange looks in the produce aisle, not the least of which came from a certain gentleman whom we approached with the following:
Me: "I say, Good Fellow, wouldst Thou fetch yon cucumber for m'Lady"?
Guy: "uh... ummm...." [turns, picks a cucumber up, hands said cucumber to my regal friend perched on the front of the plastic truck, mouth gaping open - flapping like a fish desperate to get back to water so it can breathe again]
Me: "I say! Not to HER, good man, to ME, for I am her majesty's Lady in Waiting! [to my friend: "Good gods! Whatever shall we come upon next?! Cheeky fellow, isn't he?", I declare as I wheel away.]
Another time I left her perched on the plastic truck while I carried on ahead a piece. She, of course, was trying to find someone of chivalry who would help a Lady in Need. She finally DID get a nice-looking fellow who was some sort of construction worker, I'd think based on his attire, whom I think was suckered in more by her pretty face than her plight - or her request to "take her carriage yon forth hitherwise" to her" Lady".
We carried on so, my dear cohort directing us to "Yon Royal Bakery Aisle" (yes, my dear laureth, I'm probably your worst nightmare in customer form. Good thing we know each other apart from said grocer's mart accostings, eh? *wink*)...
Twice we briefly parted to go up a short aisle the first time and to walk around a small stand of breads the second, only to reunite at the other side of said short aisle and bread stand as if we were long lost friends. This was apparently quite amusing to folks, a couple of whom tried their hardest to hide a burst of laughter at our simple-mindedness as we loudly proclaimed, "By the GODS!! It's YOU!!!! Fancy meeting YOU here!!" and the reply, "My goodness, it's been FOREVER since I last saw you!! WhereEVER have you BEEN???"
But the very all-time BEST was when we went to the aisle where the "ethnic" foods are kept, for my buddy is multi-lingual. And oh, LOOK! There just happens to be some folks who speak Spanish in the aisle.
Now, I do not speak French. (Nor will I ever pretend to). But what a delight it was to watch the pained faces of 4 Spanish-speaking people while my friend said, "pardon me, please, but could you please give to my servant" IN FRENCH, and completed her request with, "some refried beans, taco sauce, salsa, and tortillas? We're eating a mexican meal tonight!" in perfect SPANISH. And then sat back, smiled sweetly, and punctuated the mess with, "I thank you so very much" - in FRENCH again.
Watching the three of them look at each other (A) I assume trying to determine what the hell she just said and (B) if she was being genuine or pulling something over on them was priceless. Finally, the eldest-looking lady stepped forward and said in Spanish, "I'm sorry, but we don't speak..." and ended with the upraised eyebrows and lopsided facial expression with a "HUH???"
We ended the first portion of our expedition with countless strange looks, some snickers, a few "pointers", several whispers, and one kid asking us, "Are you for REAL??" (to which we turned to each other, poked each other in the shoulder, nodded our heads and replied, "Quite, thank you".
We then took our show on the road to the Willie St. Coop. It lost it's glamour there. Willie St. Coop, for those who may not know, is the area/local Pagan-y/Hippie type organic market... the best we got there was one purple-haired dude that smiled at us and said, "Right on" in that "Hooked on Hooka" type way. Ah, well...
We DID get some fun in on the way back home. Seems a lovely couple in the vehicle behind mine was quite enamoured with my bumper stickers. They read: "My Other Car is a Broom", "Do Not Meddle in the Affairs of Dragons: For You Are Crunchy and Good With Ketchup", "Magick Happens", an "ABSOLUTELY 'Support Our Troops'! BRING THEM HOME!!" bumper sticker, a "Re-defeat Bush 2004" bumper sticker that I refuse to remove until the dolt leaves his usurped throne, a "XENA for PRESIDENT" bumper sticker, and a sticker that reads, "I Walk The Path of The Ancient Ones"... - not to forget my rainbow sticker that says, "Girls Rule"!
Not knowing which sticker it was that made us so interesting, we both smiled big toothy grins at them, tossing about our long hair and waving wildly as the car pulled up beside us for a look. Apparently we didn't impress them, for they pulled back in our lane directly behind us and took the next right turn. Yeah, we Witches look pretty mundane, really...
It's been far too long since I've messed with mundane people's sense of reality.
And so, today, I took it upon myself two kill these two birds with one stone.
But I said to myself, "Self," said I, "we ought to share in the fun. Why hoard the experience, right?"
And so it was that I rang one of my paramedic buddies to see if she had time to... uh... go wreak havoc.
Heh heh... she DID.
I went out sporting a lovely Pagan-ish type tye-dye dress with fish-net style back - and my daughter's Renn Festival headpiece - a lovely thing with ribbons streaming, flowers abounding, and lots of sparklish foliage. (She likes things that sparkle, you see).
My buddy went out sporting a short pair of shorts and a tank top with sandals - and a lovely floor length wine-coloured velvet cape.
We went to the grocer's mart. Two of them, actually. The first being a regular-ol' mainstream type grocer's mart. Having decided we would stick with the Renn Festival schtick, we spoke only in the worst Old English we could possibly muster... WHILE she was seated on the front of a kiddie cart. You know, plastic pickup truck that wee ones can ride in, with the shopping cart on what would be the "bed" of the truck... she perched herself regally upon the truck, and off we went.
So it was that we aquired many strange looks in the produce aisle, not the least of which came from a certain gentleman whom we approached with the following:
Me: "I say, Good Fellow, wouldst Thou fetch yon cucumber for m'Lady"?
Guy: "uh... ummm...." [turns, picks a cucumber up, hands said cucumber to my regal friend perched on the front of the plastic truck, mouth gaping open - flapping like a fish desperate to get back to water so it can breathe again]
Me: "I say! Not to HER, good man, to ME, for I am her majesty's Lady in Waiting! [to my friend: "Good gods! Whatever shall we come upon next?! Cheeky fellow, isn't he?", I declare as I wheel away.]
Another time I left her perched on the plastic truck while I carried on ahead a piece. She, of course, was trying to find someone of chivalry who would help a Lady in Need. She finally DID get a nice-looking fellow who was some sort of construction worker, I'd think based on his attire, whom I think was suckered in more by her pretty face than her plight - or her request to "take her carriage yon forth hitherwise" to her" Lady".
We carried on so, my dear cohort directing us to "Yon Royal Bakery Aisle" (yes, my dear laureth, I'm probably your worst nightmare in customer form. Good thing we know each other apart from said grocer's mart accostings, eh? *wink*)...
Twice we briefly parted to go up a short aisle the first time and to walk around a small stand of breads the second, only to reunite at the other side of said short aisle and bread stand as if we were long lost friends. This was apparently quite amusing to folks, a couple of whom tried their hardest to hide a burst of laughter at our simple-mindedness as we loudly proclaimed, "By the GODS!! It's YOU!!!! Fancy meeting YOU here!!" and the reply, "My goodness, it's been FOREVER since I last saw you!! WhereEVER have you BEEN???"
But the very all-time BEST was when we went to the aisle where the "ethnic" foods are kept, for my buddy is multi-lingual. And oh, LOOK! There just happens to be some folks who speak Spanish in the aisle.
Now, I do not speak French. (Nor will I ever pretend to). But what a delight it was to watch the pained faces of 4 Spanish-speaking people while my friend said, "pardon me, please, but could you please give to my servant" IN FRENCH, and completed her request with, "some refried beans, taco sauce, salsa, and tortillas? We're eating a mexican meal tonight!" in perfect SPANISH. And then sat back, smiled sweetly, and punctuated the mess with, "I thank you so very much" - in FRENCH again.
Watching the three of them look at each other (A) I assume trying to determine what the hell she just said and (B) if she was being genuine or pulling something over on them was priceless. Finally, the eldest-looking lady stepped forward and said in Spanish, "I'm sorry, but we don't speak..." and ended with the upraised eyebrows and lopsided facial expression with a "HUH???"
We ended the first portion of our expedition with countless strange looks, some snickers, a few "pointers", several whispers, and one kid asking us, "Are you for REAL??" (to which we turned to each other, poked each other in the shoulder, nodded our heads and replied, "Quite, thank you".
We then took our show on the road to the Willie St. Coop. It lost it's glamour there. Willie St. Coop, for those who may not know, is the area/local Pagan-y/Hippie type organic market... the best we got there was one purple-haired dude that smiled at us and said, "Right on" in that "Hooked on Hooka" type way. Ah, well...
We DID get some fun in on the way back home. Seems a lovely couple in the vehicle behind mine was quite enamoured with my bumper stickers. They read: "My Other Car is a Broom", "Do Not Meddle in the Affairs of Dragons: For You Are Crunchy and Good With Ketchup", "Magick Happens", an "ABSOLUTELY 'Support Our Troops'! BRING THEM HOME!!" bumper sticker, a "Re-defeat Bush 2004" bumper sticker that I refuse to remove until the dolt leaves his usurped throne, a "XENA for PRESIDENT" bumper sticker, and a sticker that reads, "I Walk The Path of The Ancient Ones"... - not to forget my rainbow sticker that says, "Girls Rule"!
Not knowing which sticker it was that made us so interesting, we both smiled big toothy grins at them, tossing about our long hair and waving wildly as the car pulled up beside us for a look. Apparently we didn't impress them, for they pulled back in our lane directly behind us and took the next right turn. Yeah, we Witches look pretty mundane, really...