I was witness to an interesting conversation today – or at least a part of it – on the elevator ride up to work this morning. My fellow passengers entailed two gentlemen, who were discussing the movie 30 Days Of Night. Or at least one of them was – the other actually thought they were talking about 50 First Dates, the romantic comedy of the not-really-that-similar name – I realized this because he kept asking whether or not if Drew Barrymore looked “hot” in the movie, which is another set of issues entirely. Anyway it would have been just a trivial, innocent mistake – only entertaining because it’s about someone who actually still thinks Drew Barrymore is hot – but the twist of our story here is that the other guy – apparently mistaking Drew Barrymore for Melissa George (or whoever the female lead in 30 Days Of Night was) – kept going without correcting the mistake, and thus became gradually more and more confused at his friend’s unusual interest in Drew Barrymore and her role in 30 Days Of Night.

…a role which of course, doesn’t exist. And a fact that no one seemed to realize.

As well, he kept noting how it was “scary” it was, which threw off Drew Barrymore Fan #1…who apparently mistook his commentary on the scariness of the movie (which I haven’t seen, but I’d imagine it to be relatively more scary than 50 First Dates, you know what with the vampires and all the days of night all that) to be a reference to how “scary” Drew Barrymore looked instead. Which created this rift between them, lead to this delicious silent moment of awkward confusion, where each guy is like silently nodding and externally showing signs of humble agreement with the other but secretly in their heads thinking about how much of an idiot the other guy is instead.

At this point the elevator opens up to my floor, and I leave with the assumption that the misunderstanding and the true cause of the awkwardness between them would never be fully realized by either man.

I imagine them years from this day, a full feud developed now between them. I wonder at the bitterness and hate that will linger in both of their hearts. What depths of animosity will they have for each other, born from a misunderstanding that came from an awkward elevator conversation about two different movies.

I live for moments like these, and its on days like this that I’m happy to be alive, waiting for and riding up on that elevator with those two guys having a discussion about a topic that was only really understood by the guy eavesdropping in on them. That awkward confusion…it’s delicious, I eat it up like apple crumble. I’m like a Sailor Moon Negaverse villain planting seeds of “negativity” and gobbling up that dark human energy – all that awkwardness and confusion. It’s fantastic.

Anyway, I have absolutely no idea why I decided to randomly pull a Sailor Moon reference out of nowhere, but as long as we’re on the topic…Tuxedo Mask is a straight up pimp. I mean, he throws ROSES at you. And if that doesn’t work, then he jumps out at you and beats your ass with a fucking cane, son. Goddamn! Serious – every time he shows up, he whips a rose so hard it sticks into the concrete pavement, like it was a ten pound lawn dart. Have you ever tried to do that? Man, it’s hard. I’m sitting around in the hall behind my aunt’s flower shop the odd weekend here and there for years, de-thorning those bad boys, and practicing my Tuxedo Mask Rose Dart Jutsu skills…and still, to present day – nothing. I remember coming home from elementary school, and eating bowls of Lucky Charms while slipping into a coma in front of the television for all that after school programming on YTV. Doug, Reboot, Sailor Moon…Rupert…I’d watch it all. There was not a single (male) child of the 90’s that didn’t grow up practicing whipping flowers at guys (weedy dandelions picked off the side of the road, generally) and playing 52 card pick-up Gambit-style. You can’t tell me you never threw a playing card with the intent to kill another human being, which always immediately proceeded the slurring of the words “Feirst you charge de card…” or “Mon ami!” or some combination thereof. “Weeeeoooow! PSHOOOOW!”

Good times.

…

Anyway. Where was going with this…? I’m completely lost now.

Ah well. He likes turtles.

Man…I don’t know what the FUCK you just said little kid…but you special, man. You reached down…and you touched ma heart.