What a strange day. I woke up and sat down out in the living room to turn on some music and get coffee like I usually do on days I have work at 1pm. It helps me relax before having to deal with evening people and the many colors they bring. Being an evening person myself (though mornings don’t bother me either) I’ve come to accept it. I take a few sips of the coffee, Highlander Grogg is my favorite, while checking on this site and taking mental notes of what to do throughout the day. I always get side tracked and end up looking for ridiculous content and news on new technology, games, and science related articles. At 12:15, I need to be uptown to meet Dale for lunch before I head to work. At 11:50 am, I finish getting my shoes and jacket on, do a double take and head out the door with my bike. To my surprise, an unexpected package was blocking my exit.
The package had my name on it printed in a large bold text. The package seemed to be a large paper bag crudely wrapped in packaging tape. I didn’t have much time but curiosity is one of my crutches. I quickly tear open the top to find it filled with a cream colored fabric. I didn’t order anything in the last month or 2 and wasn’t expecting anything either. The return address name was one of the strangest names I’ve seen myself. Enid. I continue taking out the fabric and to my surprise it was… a wedding dress? At this point my thoughts fly out to every possible reason for receiving this. Was my mother trying to tell me something in a cruel fashion? A friend playing a joke? The package had my name on it and spelled correctly too, which is rare. I leave it back it it’s package, confused, amused, worried, and head out the door to meet Dale for lunch.
After going to Rapid Fire Pizza and talking about our day to this point, we part ways to both head back to our work place. At my place of work, which for the sake of corporate not breathing down my neck will remained unnamed, things were as usual. I say hello and joke about my morning as im still grasping for answers. Out on the floor, I sign in and begin checking a few people out, then proceed to organize the store. The rest of my day is pretty much the same deal except for a few events that made the day a bit stressful, but unique. First, a lady decides to leave quite a mess of items on our floor and racks and proceeds to head to check out. When she notices me watching her as I immediately walk past her to clean it up she mumbles to my co worker, who is currently oblivious to the issue, that she was sorry for leaving such a mess. I find it slightly doubtful but keep to myself as Im not the kind of person that confronts unless absolutely necessary. Not to mention It put me in a bit of an irritated mood. Moral here is to not be “that person” at the store you shop at. Always ask for assistance when you don’t know where things go or what to do. Otherwise you’ll be on the wrong side of store’s favor.
I finishing fixing up the mess and shortly after the phone rings. I answer and someone tells me they saw a man that has fallen out of his wheelchair outside our building. I quickly say “Thank you for informing me”, hang up, and rush outside. This man, who is missing a leg, was laying on the ground in a position that at first appeared like he was struggling to get up. I rush over to offer help but he declines and asks me if I knew how to make is electric wheelchair go faster. Im a bit dumbfounded at the situation and the question, I give him an honest “no” as he proceeds to tell me how he lost his leg and was given a 3% chance at surviving the unspecified event that claimed his leg years ago. I had a few guesses as he smelled strongly of tobacco and his overall appearance was that of a heroin addict, but maybe im just being critical and I apologize if I came to the wrong assumption. Throughout his vague story I kept my friendly face on and listened even though I was getting a bit antsy about being out of the busy store front for an extended period of time when his ringing phone cut him short. I let him go off and continue my day.
The as the night grew darker and time grew closer to closing, we cleaned up and began our routines. To finish the night, a man was locked out of his car and was roaring in anger as I came out to offer assistance. It immediately calmed him as embarrassment overcame his face and I called for police to help him with his problem. As he waited outside, our doors locked, we finished our close, and headed home for the night. This was a particularly strange and eventual day. ~And to Enid, if for some odd reason you ever read this. I never did forward or return the package. Call me selfish, but I didn’t want to pay the extra shipping that comes with forwarding mail of that size. The dress was donated instead.