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It's Not a Bug, It's a Feature
by Turtle Jones
Everyone has them. We all have weird personal rules and regulations that must be followed. Things about us that people look at us and say "WTF? Why the hell do you have count the stairs all the time? Why can't you step on the sidewalk crack? How come you have to sit in the aisle seat all the time?" You know you've got them. Strange little habits. Odd aversions. The little things that make you tick, but make others look at you kinda strange like. Here's ours.
Michele sits in the chair
More than one person has said to me “I need a rule book to keep up with your quirks.” I’ve got so many of them that sometimes I wonder what’s normal about me.
You might not want to go out to eat with me. Because when we get seated I have to do this ritual. Oh, first. I have to sit in a booth, or at a table that’s up against a wall or window. I can’t sit at a regular table that’s just placed in the middle of the restaurant floor. Too open. Can’t eat like that. I’m uncomfortable and twitchy and nervous, like Steve Irwin in a....nevermind. I just don't like sitting there like a wide open target. Like zombies are gonna invade the restaurant and start picking out dinner. Or I'm going to get caught in some Don Corleone crossfire. At Chili's. Mexican Mafia. So it’s huddled in a booth or secure against a wall. But. That’s not enough. I have to stand there for five minutes determining which side of the booth I want to sit in. Or which chair against the wall/window I want to sit in. I’ll choose one. Sit down. If it doesn’t feel right I’ll get up and ask you to change seats with me. It's like musical chairs. Without the music or the ending where the little girl in the pigtails and party dress is pointed at and laughed at because there's no chair for her. Anyhow, as I was saying. It’s what I do. My friends and family are kind of used to it. “Ok, let’s let Michele choose her place before we even attempt to sit down.” Then they all stare at me, just waiting. Sometimes I drag it out, just to watch them squirm while the hostess shoots us all an annoyed look. Is that a quirk? Or just being an asshole?
I have a seating quirk in the movie theater, too. I have to sit in the last four rows or so. Middle section (if there are three sections). Aisle seat. I have to have that aisle seat. Because you never know when a fire will break out. Or a stampede will occur. Or zombies will bash down the back door of the theater and we have to make a run for it. Or maybe I’ll just have to pee. Because I always have to pee. I have the world’s smallest bladder. Every half hour or so, I’m in the bathroom. Though I don’t know if that’s a quirk or a malfunction.
I hoard food. Kind of. I go to those big warehouse type grocery places and buy things I don’t need in bulk. I have two cases of chicken broth in my closet. Because god forbid there’s ever a chicken broth shortage, I will be a fucking hero in my hometown. I will never run out of toilet paper, tissues or tampons. I get a sense of security knowing that I have an economy size case of Apples and Cinnamon oatmeal in my closet. When the zombie Armageddon comes and everyone else is scrounging around for food and supplies, I’m gonna be eating healthy and building a fort out of tampons.
What? Girls fart?
Oh, yea. My farts smell like roses. And I shit rainbows.
But those aren’t quirks so much as features. -M
turtle gets weird on you
So basically the question is why I am weird?
That's kinda like asking a blind man why he can't see. Jesus, I have tons. I mean, there are things about me that only a few people know, but what do I do? I have a few. I could talk for hours about how I am colorblind, but that just gets old. Don't ask me why I see things different than you. Don't ask me why I can say something is blue while you ask me "I thought you were colorblind?" Maybe that's more of a pet peeve. Just remember, I can't see what you see, but I see what you can't. Even trying to make a rational explanation of that kinda gives me a headache. That's what the internet is for. Look it up yourself. Just remember; I see things in black and white. So don't fucking hand me a pic and ask me what I see. I really fucking hate that. I feel like I am a piñata at some Mexican kids birthday party.
Let's not even go into my hearing.
But actual quirks?
In can tell you easy ones, like when I get up in the morning, I fire a cigar and hit the stereo and sit in a groggy haze. Sit back and wonder where I am. Sometimes with my shoes still on. After all these years, sometimes that still comes back to me. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I passed out the night before. I was just too damn tired to take them off. Sometimes I'm up late working on things and from where I see it, just taking my clothes off is good enough. Wait, why was I wearing clothes again? Why was I wearing shoes? I must have done something last night. I mean really, two days ago I answered the door naked to a bunch of Mormons and asked them in to talk about their ideas, so you can see, I don't like clothes. I must have wanted some M&M's or something. The basic rule around my house is to follow the roach the nearest piece of candy on the floor. That's when the Sherlock Holmes comes out.
Oh. I guess I went for a Butterfinger last night.
Follow the roaches. They are my Dr Watson.
The hell was I at?
The big quirk I always have to go with is food. It one of those things that I never got why it is so instilled in me, but it is. Maybe it was from my dad. You see someone who came from nothing and you hear it everyday, maybe that's why it stuck with me. I eat anything. I might not like it, but I do. It just happens to be something I do. If someone took the time to make you food, you eat it. You don't take more than you can eat. You always thank whoever made it for you. That is one of my hardest rules. If someone does something for you, totally unasked for, you show him or her the respect of eating it. Fuck, they went out of their way to do this for you. You don't fuck them off. If you do, I get kinda pissed. Dude, they didn't have to make you food. They could have just let you have dry heaves the entire night while you are trying to get cups of water in you to stop throwing up bile. So dude, you better fucking appreciate what they did for you. And don't think picking at what you took works. Just eating a bite or two. No bueno. You grabbed it. You eat it. You take what you can eat. You leave the rest for others. That's the way it goes around me.
Or else, here's a glass of water. See if that will stop your stomach from hurting.
And try to keep the bile in the toilet. - T
So those are just a few of our quirks. Everyone has them. Just things you have to ask yourself "Why?"
But they happen and you know what? They make you who you are. They are part of you and they will never leave you until the end. Get used to them and get over them.
We have them.
So do you.
What are yours?