Back when I waited tables, I’d notice some nights when customers were especially weird and think, “It must be a full moon.” I was right about 90% of the time. And the 10% error rate was probably due to people who are freaks ALL the time. I don’t know what the moon does but there’s no question in my mind that it somehow makes people behave erratically.
Yesterday was just one of those days when it only took a 30 minute excursion to realize it was a full moon. It started the moment I left my apartment and saw a queen-sized mattress right in the middle of the building’s courtyard. There was nobody around, no signs of somebody moving, no indication of an impromptu slumber party about to begin. Naturally, I was curious why it was there and how it got there. I can understand dropping a sock on the way back from the laundry and not realizing it, but a dropped mattress is one of those things you’d expect someone to notice. Perhaps that’s giving people too much credit.
I drove to the store and saw a homeless guy dancing in the middle of an interesection, which I thought was hilarious. Five minutes later some folks dressed in Mardi Gras costumes (in March) danced in the cross walk in front of my car and all I wanted to do was run them all down. Dancing in the street is fun as long as it doesn’t impede my progress.
I arrived at the Staples parking lot to find only one open spot but it was blocked by a guy sitting in his car talking on the phone. I gave a little beep and he rolled down his window. I asked if he could please move forward a bit so I could pull into the spot. He said, “I’m taking that spot.” I was annoyed since he’d shown no signs he was moving in any direction, least of all in a miraculous perpendicular one. With no other choice, I moved ahead to loop around again. That’s when I saw the guy drive off the lot! It’s as if he was angry at me for honking at his rude behavior and decided to punish me by claiming he was taking the spot.
I finished shopping at Staples then stood in line between TWO people with dogs. It’s bad enough I have to stumble over people’s rugrats in stores, now I have to worry about their pets? Though, I have to admit, if I had my choice between dogs and kids in the store, I’d pick dogs. But I don’t have that choice so let’s eliminate what we can. What particularly bothered me was that when I left, I saw the first guy loading his packages into his car, which was 20 feet from the store entrance. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why he couldn’t leave his dog in the car. For Christ’s sake, it was a 60 pound German Shepherd. It’s not like anybody was going to steal it. For that matter, nobody was going to steal the other guy’s 5 pound mangy poodle either. I’ll make a deal with local dog owners: I won’t set up my desk on the path at Runyan Canyon, you don’t bring your dog into Staples.
The one mile drive home involved at least three “fucking idiot”‘s on my part, but that’s actually standard driving procedure in Hollywood and can’t be blamed on the moon.
I returned home to discover the mattress still there, where it stayed until later that evening. It was probably moved when a full moon afflictee settled in for bed and realized his new mattress wasn’t very soft then remembered that “thud” he’d heard earlier just as his load lightened significantly.
Anybody know a good full moon reminder service? I really need to stay on top of this so I can just lock myself away one day a month.