Sunday, September 20, 2009

Predictor Philosopher Prophet of Doom

It's way early in the morning. Caffeine and the crossword puzzle keep a few of us calmly occupied until the gas station really opens for business at 6:00am. Most the time we talk lightly amongst ourselves in our own booth—utmost concentration as we dwell on a frustrating word, but we do banter with certain familiar customers until the cobwebs have lifted from our heads…

Gumbyman appears these last few mornings. AArgh...you’ve read about him before! I really try to clear out before the onslaught of retardation begins, but sometimes he strikes after one java--He’s just itching to begin some version of what-could-have-been-a-decent-topic-had-someone-else-opened-their-mouth instead…

I write this blog because I can’t get this vision out of my mind (eye-rolling here) and for some reason that boppy little Marilyn Manson tune of ‘Own Personal Jesus’ has run through my mind all day, with an occasional roar: ‘REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH’.

Gumbyman has begun the throat-clearing and the hem-hawing. You can tell he’s revving up. He’s probably watched something on PBS (Profuse Brain Stupidity) or on TLC-- (Trivially Learned Crap) last night. I like these channels and it wouldn’t be so bad if he’d just mumble out…”I watched this show on___….” But no, Gumbyman deluges us with his seeming ‘expertness’ in all fields but comes across like a 6 year old that retained only fragments of some silly fairy tale…or mixed together 2 or 3 tales with the nightly news and a bad politician.

“Ahem…grunt, groan. Throat rasps. Hem/haw. Slight cough. Um. Ahem…” Many people take their cues and jump up to get another cup of coffee or check their phones or lottery tickets then sneak out the door. I was in the process of grabbing some sugar packets and stopped dead in my tracks when my ears were assaulted with this:

“Ahem.. Um. Ugh. Yeah. Um. Ya know, the world didn’t end in 2000.”

I am speechless and I widen my eyes to the size of dinner plates as I looked over at County Worker Man, the poor remaining soul trapped in Gumbyman’s snare—too polite to get up and walk out, but he cannot hide or wipe the smile off his face no matter now hard he tries.

Yes, folks, I $hit you not. “YOU KNOW, THE WORLD DIDN’T END IN 2000.” WHAT THE FREAK DO YOU MEAN???!!! Frankly, I am highly amused yet flabbergasted by the stupidity of this statement; Gumbyman’s opening line to his 15 minute oration in which he soils himself with verbal diarrhea.

THE WORLD DIDN’T END IN 2000. I guess I did not know this. I should fall to my knees! Je$u$! Praise God! Our planet is NOT filled with uncomatose zombies that have managed NOT to lose their skin these last 9 years. Halleluiah! I should cry out like a Holy Roller Baptist! Praise be! We’re ALIVE!

This is about where crazy Marilyn Manson kicks in... I give miserable County Worker Man a huge grin and a slow beauty-pageant wave as I back out the door--his eyes are glazing over already...