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Friday, July 10, 2009

Making the Day Just a Little More Surreal…

Jim is on vacation in Michigan this week.  Besides giant killer deer, he is surrounded by corn. Acres and acres of corn. Square miles of corn. There are things, strange children, in the corn. I can hear them chanting at night.  Don't go into the corn. Just sayin'
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I'm at my parent's house.

They're farmers.

They're up early and gone to the farmer's market in Middleville to sell their produce this morning. They took their grandson with them.

I was sitting on the couch, reading the Internet, and drinking my coffee when I saw a car pull into the drive.

This is not unusual.  Cars pull in here all of the time, my parents are well known throughout south western Michigan for the quality of their produce. Up until last year they ran a very popular and highly visited farm stand in front of their house.  They're getting older though, and the stand was a lot of work every day, so this year they mostly just sell at the Friday Farmer's Market in Middleville.  However, they have attracted hundreds of loyal customers over the years, and if you stop by the house, they'll cheerfully sell you beans or asparagus or new potatoes or pickles or raspberries or just shoot the shit for a while. People stop by all of the time, dozens a day sometimes, at all hours.

So, a car in the driveway, not that unusual.

Except that it's Friday, and everybody knows that my folks are at market on Friday.

However, they leave the garage open, and if you need a couple pounds of green onions or a quart of strawberries you call ahead and my folks will leave your order in the garage and you can get it out of the produce cooler and put your money in the can.  So I figured that's who this was.

I heard a car door slam, then I saw a young woman approaching the front door.

Now that is unusual, regulars don't come to the front door and ring the bell, they shout through the screen door into the kitchen from the garage if they have a question, "Hey! Anybody home! I need yellow beans, got any? Hello?"  That's just how it is around here.

So, young, well dressed woman at the front door.

Hmmm, so I answer the door unshaven, in my sweats, coffee in hand. I’m a sexy monkey in the morning, I am.

Woman: "Hi!  I'm here to tell you how to survive the end of the world!"

Me: "Mmph?"

Woman: "I'm Katie and we're doing volunteer work here in the neighborhood and I'd like to talk to you about how to survive the end of the world!"

 

I don't like these people. 

I especially don't like brightly fervent cheerfully perky people who knock on my door and try to sell me the Jesus like some salesman hawking insurance or Rainbow vacuum cleaners before I've even finished my first cup of coffee.

Suddenly, I felt inspired.

 

Me: "End of the World?  What are you selling, bomb shelter plans?"

Woman: "Ahh ha ha, bomb shelter pla... No what I'd like...

Me: "Cause I could use me some good underground bomb shelter plans."

Woman: "No, I..."

Me: "Does your shelter plan have a place to store food and guns? Lots and lots of guns? Because when the Zombie Apocalypse comes you're going to need lots of guns...big ones. Are you selling guns?"

Woman: "I, uh...zombies?"

Me: "Hell yes, zombies.  They’ll come through the corn looking for brainz to feast on in an orgy of blood.  You have to blow their heads off to stop them. Well, technically all you have to do is sever the spinal cord at the base of the neck.  But most people can’t shoot that well.  So you need a big gun.  Or you could use a machete, but then you’d have to get in real close. And cutting the head off leaves you with a zombie head, you need to watch where you step, because zombie heads can still bite if something comes within range.  And you don’t wanna get bit, do you? But, you know that already, right? That’s what you do, right?”

Woman: “Wha…?”

Me: “Why, what were you talking about?”

Woman: “Um, see, um, Jesus, and, um…” [At this point she’s got this sort of stunned look and she’s waving some kind of glossy tract around in sort of a vague manner, the title on top says “How to Survive the End of the World.” It doesn’t say anything about zombies though, as far as I can see.]

Me: “Oh yeah, Jesus, talk about zombies. Rising from the dead and all that.  Some people in the zombie movement think he was the first zombie you know. Sort of like Dracula was the first vampire.”

Woman: [faintly] “Vampires?”

Me: “Vampires?  I don’t believe in vampires. Or werewolves either. What are you, some kind of nut? That’s just silly.  Sorry not interested.”

And I shut the door.

 

As I watched her pull out of the driveway I thought, serve the bitch right.  Damn silly woman, she won’t last ten minute when the zombie farm hands come shambling through the corn…

30 comments:

  1. Jim, I know your wife might object (not to mention my boyfriend) but...I think I love you.

    That was so beautiful I just might cry.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Get in line, Carol, get in line.

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  3. I'm sorry, that was too funny!

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  4. Who needs the internets when you can taunt people in person.

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  5. Jim, I have to point people over to this entry. Do you mind if I excerpt a small bit of it?

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  6. Do I mind if you direct people to my blog? Heh heh, you're so funny, Carol.

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  7. Heh heh, you're so funny, Carol.

    Yeah, but looks aren't everything.

    Ba dum bump!

    Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week. Be sure to tip your waitress.

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  8. Carol, if you really loved Jim, you would have Dugg him.

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  9. If she really loved me, she'll send me brownies - that would guarantee her a spot in the bunker when the Zombie Apocalypse comes...

    of course, that applies to all of the rest of you too. Hint, hint.

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  10. Heh. I always forget about Digg. I have rectified that error. Jim, you have been Dugg. And linked.

    As long as you don't mind bakery brownies, Jim, I'll see what I can do. I live in an apartment with a missing oven temperature dial and a kitchen I rarely feel like being in, so I haven't baked in years. Even if I did, it'd be vegan brownies. Sorry. But I've made some damned yummy vegan brownies in the past.

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  11. Nice one dude, you can never get enough of zombies in life.

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  12. Oh, I am sending you something all right.

    Something to help with the aforementioned apocalypse.

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  13. John, are you fighting or hastening the aforementioned apocalypse? You are one gift horse we do look in the mouth.

    Jim, that was, as usual, fabulous. I shared with my sons, they loved it.

    So many UCF men to crush on, so little time!

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  14. I am soooo using that the next time the doorbell rings.

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  15. Need a bumper sticker that sez:
    Jesus was a Zombie too!!

    I had just moved to Orlando, Florida many years ago, didn't have a job yet, so was spending a lot of time home during the day. We lived in the end unit of a small condo development.

    So one day I see people walking into the neighborhood from the street. The doorbell rings. I answer, and it's 3 nicely dressed women. They start their script. Thank you, I'm not interested. I try to shut the door, they persist (too bad I put the German Shepard in the bathroom when the doorbell rang). They want to come in and pray with me.

    Finally, I ask the youngest of the group to please go read the sign next to the driveway. She does, and looks puzzled. Her mother asks her to read it.

    "No Soliciting, No Trespassing"

    We're not soliciting, she protests.

    "OH, Yes, yes you are! You are trespassing on private property, soliciting your religion and trying to force your way into my house. No soliciting means EVERYONE, including you!! Now, I am shutting the door, and I will watch as you leave the property, go back to where you parked you car on the street, get in and leave. Then I am calling both the president of the Neighbohood Association AND the development security office. If they are not available I WILL call the police and have you arrested for trespassing and solicitation!"

    They were still sputtering and protesting when I shut the door, let the dog out of the bathroom, she started leaping at the window and barking like crazy. And they could see me through the very large front window as I picked up my bright yellow phone and started talking to someone.

    By the time security got there, they were long gone. By the time I got to the pool that afternoon, I was a local hero, apparently this group had been making a nuisence of themselves for some time and nothing anyone else tried had worked. They left our development alone for a very long time after that.

    Score one for the new kid on the block!!

    WendyB_09

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  16. Well, sure, Wendy that works too. But personally I still prefer to unleash the zombies.

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  17. Of all the door-thumper stories I've ever heard, that one beats all - even the one where my neighbor walks from house to sauna bare nekkid and smiling, towel over the shoulder, intercepting the vanload of white shirts on the way... I bet he can still hear the tires squealing.

    He never got to talk to them, though. He certainly didn't bring up the fact that Jesus was the #1 Zombie...

    Where do I send the brownies?

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  18. My Hot Mom used to go to college with someone who grabbed the evangelical by the lapel, put his face right up to the Bible-thumpers and growled, "Support Mental Health!"

    He then abruptly released the thumper and shut the door in his face.

    Hee.

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  19. I went to grad school with a guy who used to keep his own religious tracts by the front door and try to force them on the door-to-door religion salespeople. Or he'd grab his brown hooded robe and explain he was a Druid and that he needed to take them into the back yard right now to visit the great oak tree while he made a sacrifice...

    Yeah, they tended to leave his neighborhood pretty damned fast.

    Dr. Phil

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  20. Jim, may I print this out and leave it posted at the door for when they come?

    Please, may I ?

    I need the explicit instructions to defend myself from the zombie hoard during the Zombie Apocalypse.

    I'll be directing folks your way too.

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  21. Remember my pal and occasional commenter Beastly?

    He once sprayed a couple Jehovah's Witnesses with a hose, when we lived in Spain. They were less than happy and it would appear that we are no longer guaranteed a place in the Spanish JW Heaven. Sigh.

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  22. Well, Jim, remember I was new to the area, didn't yet know where one could get a reliable supply of zombies at the time.

    Besides, the dog would have tried to eat the zombies. She always liked stinky things...

    WendyB_09

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  23. True, true. You don't want the dog rolling in zombie debris. Weeoh!

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  24. It must a thing with you crypto guys. TheHusband does the same shit to both phone telemarketers and in-person solicitors. Unfortunately our "guard cat" is not threatening enough to scare off the anti-zombie folks... TheHusband says we should post a "Beware of Owner" sign.

    I wonder what will get back to your parents about this. :-)

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  25. You know, I can work with that one:
    "have you accepted jesus into your heart?"

    "oh, you mean zombie prime?"

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  26. Jesus was the First Zombie!!

    Man, that is awesome! Great story!

    SP

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  27. I'm polite to cute college girls in tight tops, anyone else I try and convert to Fifth Church of Christ, Cosmonaut.

    As far as we know the zombies got the first four.

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  28. On more than one occassion, some zealot with bad judgement has asked me "Are you saved?"

    "From what?" is always my standard response, and said firmly as I turn around, walk away and refuse to engage them any further.

    WendyB_09

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  29. I am no longer allowed to read your blog after my husband goes to bed. It seems my efforts to repress my laughter sound something like a strangled cat and it wakes him up every time.

    I'm also not reading your blog over coffee, because, well, duh.

    At this rate, finding opportunities to read your blog without risking marital or monitor damage is going to be something of a challenge.

    But omg is it worth it...! ;)

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  30. Most people read me in the bathroom, Songstress, or so I'm told...

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