Lonely Tylenol
09-03-2007, 06:08 AM
Hi, you guys all know me as Lonely Tylenol, Senile Felines (my old mod), Synchronicity (my new mod), Liberal, Confrontational (my rap attack tag), and, in some select circles, Colten. What you call me is irrelevant, as I'm about to tell you a story of blind injustice that happened here tonight in the 808 state.
Okay, so for the last couple days, I've had my younger cousin here from one of the neighbor islands on a Labor Day visit, and he happens to be really into reggae music. I, not being of the persuasion that reggae was the hottest thing since the marijuana pipe, don't necessarily share his feelings about reggae, but I knew there was a concert for Ooklah the Mok and Natural Vibrations nearby, and wound up going to see it with him and my two parents (who graciously opted to pay for my mooching ass). I took with me only a Gatorade and a five-gallon bucket to sit on.
A little bit into the concert I got tired of sitting on the bucket and laid down on the ground, resting my head inside the bucket. Much to my surprise (well, not that much), I found that the music echoed within the bucket and, when I put my head in while laying down, the music sounded good.
So here I am, laying on the ground with my head in a bucket, listening to reggae music in an open field full of hippies, when all of a sudden this guy stops to look at me, and we share the following exchange.
Him: "Does the bucket make the music echo in there?"
Me: (Nods)
Him: (Pause) "...You burnin'?"
Me: "Nope." (Shakes head)
Him: "Oh, okay."
After that, we exchanged pleasantries, shook hands, and he moved on. And that's when I had the single most bizarre idea in my recollection: What if I were to, completely without provocation or any rationale to support my actions, were to walk around an open field full of hippies and stoners while wearing this five-gallon bucket on my head?
So I did.
I must admit, the initial reaction was kinda nice! The first few people I walked by stopped me and told me the bucket was hilarious, I told them it echoed, and they asked if they could try it. I was quickly growing fond of my bucket, so I told them I'd rain check on that, and moved on.
After that, however, the reactions got darker. Along with several stink-eyes and double-takes, I got a couple rude gestures for wearing my bucket around crowded areas, and people would stop me to ask why in the good God's name was I wearing a bucket on my head? It got very frustrating, so I started to move nearer to the entrance, where the field was a lot thinner, which is where, ultimately, I reached a boiling point.
Near the entrance, a security guard grabbed me by the shoulder, turned me around, and asked me if I was "crip". Not knowing what the Hell he was talking about, I just gave him a blank stare and said "what?"
This happened about five or six more times with different slang terms and the same response until he finally gave me an exasperated sigh and said, "kid, are you stoned or something?"
And of course I wasn't, so I just said "no, I'm not high, I'm just wearing a five-gallon bucket on my head."
Well now if this didn't arouse suspicion in this security guard, I don't know what did, so for the rest of the evening, the bastard kept his eye on me to make sure my bucket-headed ways did not lead me further astray. I wasn't keeping my eye on HIM, of course, but I know the bastard was watching me. I just do. Anyway, when I got back to where the rest were sitting, my parents yelled at me to take the bucket off my head, so I sat on it and pouted for the next half hour or so.
Anyway, the show's almost over, but being the weird people we are, we leave before the encore so we can get ahead of traffic. I walk by the security guard, who lets me go, but shortly after I walk past this group of women who couldn't be a year or two older than me. One of them must have been hitting the Ganja weed pretty hard, because completely out of nowhere she points at me and yells "OH SHIT!", then stares at me for a second and says, "oh, never mind, that's just a bucket."
At this point I'm feeling a little awkward about the situation, but a lot more confused. As we're walking back out to the highway, I'm so busy wondering to myself exactly what that woman thought my head was that I didn't notice these two other women walking by me. I sidestep off the path to let them go and apologize, and one of them turns to me and asks casually, "hey, is that a bucket on your head?"
By this point I've gotten sorta used to the situation, so I just told her equally casually, "yeah, it is."
So she did what was, oddly enough, the strangest thing I'd seen all night:
She looked at me, shrugged, and said "okay."
[JOKE]
This actually confused me a great deal, so as she started to walk away, I stopped her and asked "And you don't find this strange?"
And she just grinned and said, "No, I had Reese's for breakfast."
My jaw dropped. "What? Candy for BREAKFAST?"
"No, Reese's Puffs cereal!"
So she hands me a bowl, and as I take a bite it feels like a swirling torrent of peanut-butter-chocolatey goodness EXPLODING inside my mouth!
Reese's Puffs Cereal!
It's candy--for breakfast!
Okay, so for the last couple days, I've had my younger cousin here from one of the neighbor islands on a Labor Day visit, and he happens to be really into reggae music. I, not being of the persuasion that reggae was the hottest thing since the marijuana pipe, don't necessarily share his feelings about reggae, but I knew there was a concert for Ooklah the Mok and Natural Vibrations nearby, and wound up going to see it with him and my two parents (who graciously opted to pay for my mooching ass). I took with me only a Gatorade and a five-gallon bucket to sit on.
A little bit into the concert I got tired of sitting on the bucket and laid down on the ground, resting my head inside the bucket. Much to my surprise (well, not that much), I found that the music echoed within the bucket and, when I put my head in while laying down, the music sounded good.
So here I am, laying on the ground with my head in a bucket, listening to reggae music in an open field full of hippies, when all of a sudden this guy stops to look at me, and we share the following exchange.
Him: "Does the bucket make the music echo in there?"
Me: (Nods)
Him: (Pause) "...You burnin'?"
Me: "Nope." (Shakes head)
Him: "Oh, okay."
After that, we exchanged pleasantries, shook hands, and he moved on. And that's when I had the single most bizarre idea in my recollection: What if I were to, completely without provocation or any rationale to support my actions, were to walk around an open field full of hippies and stoners while wearing this five-gallon bucket on my head?
So I did.
I must admit, the initial reaction was kinda nice! The first few people I walked by stopped me and told me the bucket was hilarious, I told them it echoed, and they asked if they could try it. I was quickly growing fond of my bucket, so I told them I'd rain check on that, and moved on.
After that, however, the reactions got darker. Along with several stink-eyes and double-takes, I got a couple rude gestures for wearing my bucket around crowded areas, and people would stop me to ask why in the good God's name was I wearing a bucket on my head? It got very frustrating, so I started to move nearer to the entrance, where the field was a lot thinner, which is where, ultimately, I reached a boiling point.
Near the entrance, a security guard grabbed me by the shoulder, turned me around, and asked me if I was "crip". Not knowing what the Hell he was talking about, I just gave him a blank stare and said "what?"
This happened about five or six more times with different slang terms and the same response until he finally gave me an exasperated sigh and said, "kid, are you stoned or something?"
And of course I wasn't, so I just said "no, I'm not high, I'm just wearing a five-gallon bucket on my head."
Well now if this didn't arouse suspicion in this security guard, I don't know what did, so for the rest of the evening, the bastard kept his eye on me to make sure my bucket-headed ways did not lead me further astray. I wasn't keeping my eye on HIM, of course, but I know the bastard was watching me. I just do. Anyway, when I got back to where the rest were sitting, my parents yelled at me to take the bucket off my head, so I sat on it and pouted for the next half hour or so.
Anyway, the show's almost over, but being the weird people we are, we leave before the encore so we can get ahead of traffic. I walk by the security guard, who lets me go, but shortly after I walk past this group of women who couldn't be a year or two older than me. One of them must have been hitting the Ganja weed pretty hard, because completely out of nowhere she points at me and yells "OH SHIT!", then stares at me for a second and says, "oh, never mind, that's just a bucket."
At this point I'm feeling a little awkward about the situation, but a lot more confused. As we're walking back out to the highway, I'm so busy wondering to myself exactly what that woman thought my head was that I didn't notice these two other women walking by me. I sidestep off the path to let them go and apologize, and one of them turns to me and asks casually, "hey, is that a bucket on your head?"
By this point I've gotten sorta used to the situation, so I just told her equally casually, "yeah, it is."
So she did what was, oddly enough, the strangest thing I'd seen all night:
She looked at me, shrugged, and said "okay."
[JOKE]
This actually confused me a great deal, so as she started to walk away, I stopped her and asked "And you don't find this strange?"
And she just grinned and said, "No, I had Reese's for breakfast."
My jaw dropped. "What? Candy for BREAKFAST?"
"No, Reese's Puffs cereal!"
So she hands me a bowl, and as I take a bite it feels like a swirling torrent of peanut-butter-chocolatey goodness EXPLODING inside my mouth!
Reese's Puffs Cereal!
It's candy--for breakfast!