I’ve been driving more often than normal lately. Between rehearsals, production meetings, classes, group project meetings and my normal social life, I seem to be spending a lot of time in my car. Normally I have a very set routine when it comes to drives that take longer than 20 minutes.

Step 1 -  Turn on car and buckle seat belt. Safety first!
Step 2 – Plug in iPod.
Step 3- Begin blasting Britney, Owl City, or similar cheesy pop tunes.
Step 4 – Zone out until I reach my destination. Remain extremely alert throughout the entire trip.

This has been my routine for a long while and I rarely stray from it unless there is a passenger in the car. Recently though, I’ve taken some time to check out people in their cars. Don’t judge me. It’s fascinating what people will do when they have their car windows rolled up. It’s like they think the rest of the world can’t see them through the totally transparent glass.

I saw an SUV being driven by a teenager and full of his equally immature friends. They were all giggling as they watched a porn. In the middle of the day, in fact. Not that it would be ok at any other hour, but still…shouldn’t they have been in school or something?

A guy singing along to Mariah Carey, along with his female passenger. I automatically assumed he was gay, since he was even mimicking Mariah’s dance moves with extreme precision. Then the girl reached over and fondled him. It didn’t even phase him however, I’m going to need therapy.

A woman trying to take photographs of herself with her camera phone. I’m ok with the cheesy camera phone pic of yourself in a car. It’s the lack of concentration on the road that I was concerned with. Didn’t she realize she was going 65 on the freeway?

As I was waiting in the parking lot for a friend to arrive, a guy pulled up next to me. He immediately began to strip down, in a hurry to change out of his nicer clothes into something more casual. I turned my head to look out the other window, I found myself looking at the back of a guy’s head in the car on my right. He was obviously trying to eat the face of the girl sitting next to him, because there is no way that could be considered kissing. Totally confused about where I should look, I stared straight ahead of me. I have never been more fascinated by a concrete wall in my life.

At a stoplight, I casually look to my left to see a woman trimming her nose hair. Her window was rolled down and I was highly tempted to shout at her “I can see you!” You know, do my duty and give her a heads up.

When I told Dan the last story, he informed me that people have been shot for a lot less. Road rage is real, people. I think that instead of checking out what my fellow drivers are doing, I’m going to go back to my normal routine of dozing being a safe and courteous citizen on the road.

I had my first brush with the fellow unemployed. Long story short, my first job ever was at Michaels and obviously under my maiden name. When I reapplied there last Christmas it was as a rehire, even though it had been [insert # of years here. A lady never reveals her age.] Michaels never bothered to change my records. So the goverment sent me a letter, basically telling me I had to go down to the employment administration office with a copy of my social security card.

As I entered the building, it turned out to be nicer than I expected. The place was clean, the employees were almost Disney friendly and the furniture was comfy. I gave my name and was given some paperwork to fill out. After I turned it in, the front desk guy said there were only 6 people ahead of me and I would be out of there within an hour or so.

TWO AND A HALF HOURS LATER my eye was twitching. I had heard so many weird conversations in the waiting area, and that was while I was reading and trying to tune everyone out. (Funny side note, I was reading Bitter is the New Black by Jen Lancaster and no, I was not carrying a Prada bag. That reference was totally funny if you’ve read the book. If you haven’t, I’ll loan you my copy.)

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Man 1: They say the wait’s about an hour but we should listen for our names. Did you bring along any light reading with you?
Man 2: Yeah, I’ve got this here magazine. How ’bout you?
Man 1: Yeah, I brought my Bible.

Woman: (making small talk with the stranger next to her, who she’s just discovered is new to AZ) What brought you out here?
Man: My wife of 26 years passed away. My sister didn’t want me living alone so she had me come out here to live with her.
Woman: I’m sorry to hear about your wife.
Man: Well, thank you ma’am.
Woman: I’ve had a few losses in my family recently too.
Man: I’m sorry to hear that.
Woman: First, my grandmother died about 17 years ago. My momma passed away about 15 years ago. My brother died 9 years ago.
Man: My condolences.
Woman: Thank you. It must just run in our family.
Man: …what does? Death?

Man: (into phone) Did you get the tractor running?… No, I said tractor….TRAC-TOR…the big [effing] machine that’s rusting in your backyard, you dummy! …that is not a nice thing to say about my sister!

Employee: Sir, do you mind moving to one of the waiting room chairs? These chairs are so people can use the free phones to the job search line.
Man: No problem. (Gets up and moves to one of the 20 or so empty chairs right next to him.)
Employee: Miss? Do you mind…
Woman: I am pregnant!
Employee: …congratulations. Do you mind moving to one of these other chairs? We have a line of people waiting to use these phones.
Woman: (indignant) Did you not just hear that I am pregnant?! I cannot stand up and put my baby at risk!
Employee: Can you just scoot your chair over a few feet so this gentleman can use the phone?
Woman: No, don’t touch my chair. I’ll just move!
As she huffs over to the chair 2 feet away from her, the guy waiting to use the phone politely asked how far along she was.
Woman: Well, I haven’t been to the doctor yet, but my husband and I have been trying for a week, so I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant by now.

Man 1: What did you do?
Man 2: Sales. Most recently, in advertising. How about you?
Man 1: Mooched off my rich wife. B*tch wizened up though.

A few months ago, I started playing Farm Town in Facebook. I got bored after awhile because I didn’t log on often enough to harvest my crops and they would die between visits. So I finally decided to move out of the farm. Since then, all of my in-laws have become obsessed started their own farms. During a recent visit, Dan’s mom described to me in great detail what her farm looks like. Since a picture is worth a thousand words, she logged on to give me a visual tour of her farm. I have attached it here for your viewing pleasure, with the major tour highlights. The trees are not visible because she doesn’t want visiting harvesters to steal the fruit – the trees look prettier with fruit on them. Other than that, everything is there.

While viewing this, please keep in mind that A) her daughter’s family lives on the East Coast, B) she discusses in great detail the gardener and his kids and C) she discusses farm layout problems as if they are real-life issues that could effect the grandkids’ safety. Click on the image for a close up.

I now present to you my husband’s farm. For the record, he doesn’t have any trees because (this is a direct quote) “banana trees smell.”

 
All of the them log on at night to harvest their farms, chat together and talk smack about their pretend farms. When Mom saves a crop of pineapples for harvesting, Jen and Dan bicker over who gets to do it. At night, instead of seeing WOW on Dan’s computer, I see Farm Town. This is often accompanied with him giggling at something one of them has said or grumbling about how long it takes to plow.

I could not make this stuff up, if I tried.