Irregulars: Blame it on the weather

My Tuesdays start early and end late. They usually consist of tasty, clandestine scones strategically placed under the espresso machine so that RG (my co-worker and resident grump) does not give me a harder time than usual. I work a split shift- open to close- with my Astronomy class in the middle. After closing the coffee shop, I rush up to dinner, barely make it to Astronomy lab, run to the radio station and perform one of the best radio shows on campus- no questions asked. Rushed yet routine, Tuesdays keep me on my toes and remind me that I am young.

This Tuesday, oh this Tuesday, was rather... unpredictable? Snapshots and snippets of the day are all that I can offer because even long, detailed stories would not adequately describe the strangeness and hilarity that was today...

Bill walked into the store today holding something behind his back as he gave me a big hug. After our initial greeting, he whipped out a well worn crossword puzzle. Not just any crossword puzzle- the exact puzzle that we did last week together. He said, "I've been carrying this puzzle around all week in case I saw you. I finally got the last two clues! I am so proud and thought you might want to see it. You can throw it away if you'd like." I kept the puzzle.

I ate a clandestine scone - (that's my new favorite pair of words).

Bill: Remember when I asked you why you got the new piercing and you said "because I'm in college?"

Molly: Yes. Did you like that?

Bill: Oh it was perfect! Best response. Speaking to his sister: Did you know that Molly was Jewell's Homecoming Director?

Molly: Good thing I didn't have this when I was director. The alums wouldn't have liked that.

Bill: Pshaw... good thing. Gaw!

Molly: Hey! What is that supposed to mean?

Bill: I don't like it. We can be frank with each other, right?

I was offered a date with a young, Missouri Nascar racer who won a race last weekend and who "has a smile that could light up a room." He is 29 and posed on magazines without a shirt. I'll pass.

4:45 pm. I stopped, mid-drink making, to assess my environment. One high school girl was on the bookshelf ladder shaking and reaching toward a pair of horse bookends. One mentally imbalanced man wearing camoflouge from head to toe- with the exception of his "I Voted for Pedro" glitter sticker- was incessantly asking me to repeat "hoorah!" with him. One MySpace friend of a co-worker was reading the headlines in today's newspaper outloud. Two little boys wanted to buy juice. A regular was waiting in line to buy her granddaughers old Nancy Drew books that had lost their back covers. Six junior high boys were asking me questions from the balcony above. And the soy milk that I was steaming started to overflow. It was at this moment that time stopped. I felt completely alone, as if I was the absolute last sane person left on the planet. Then I smiled and said, "Okay... hoorah!"

I received a phone call that had a yelling person on the other end. Wrong number.

A young man who resembled trenchcoat-wearing Jonathan Safran Foer of yester-year (is that a word? Did I make that up?) browsed the store in silence, smiled at me and then proceeded to non-chalantly walk out of the store while grabbing a napkin and putting it in his pocket. All without skipping a beat.

The night ended with an acapella duet of Fergilicious with my new same camo wearing, Pedro loving friend.

Tuesdays, oh Tuesdays.