Tuesday, August 05, 2008

I'm Too Sexy For This Shirt

I love to people watch. The world is full of so many colorful characters and I need to see them all. How else can I find blogging material? I've got to be nosy observant to bring you the funny, don't I?

I am very aware of my surroundings and usually never miss much. I can hold a conversation and still witness, though not happily, an old man inappropriately adjusting himself at Walmart. I never miss any drama, which means I will see you flip off your significant other, whilst you are sporting that cheesy smile.

I also never fail to spot the freaks more interesting folk in the crowd. You know, like the bat-shit crazy lady that talks to herself and answers herself back. And the Fred Flintstone look alike that browses the local mall in a dress and heels. How about the frazzled mom with the half eaten ear?

Oh wait, that's my reflection. Strike that.

The most amusing part of watching others, I find, is eyeing their outfits. I seriously wonder if some own a mirror.

Last weekend Mr. Schmitty and I went to two concerts; Carrie Underwood on Saturday and Daughtry on Sunday.

Two different types of music = two different types of people = a whole lotta strange.

The concerts were being held at a nearby festival. Before they began, we walked through the rows of food vendors and t-shirt mongers. We were thoroughly enjoying our grown-up weekend out. As we strolled hand in hand, we entertained ourselves by pointing out the various ensembles the patrons were donning.

And we were laughing our butts off.

There was the shirtless, rail-thin boy who looked like he needed a belt to hold up the jeans that seem to be sliding down his boxers. Oh wait, maybe that was a fashion statement.

There was the did-you-spray-paint-those-jeans-on biker chick who needed a little more fabric added to her top before she fell out of it.

There was the 10 foot giant that must have grown during the opening act's performance because his jeans were about a foot too short and his shirt about three sizes too tight. Maybe he stole the rail-thin boy's shirt. Hey, and maybe they swapped jeans too.

That would explain a lot.

The music was about to start and we found our seats. We wiped away the tears of laughter and I said, "Thank GOD we're so perfect!"

Well, at least I am.

6 comments:

Jay said...

It's fun, isn't it? But I'm also inclined, like you, to catch my reflection in a window and think 'what the *** does she think she looks like? Oh .. it's me. Um. Yeah, I'm looking nice!!

ROFL!

butterflygirl said...

Aren't we all glad they we are all so perfect?

meleah rebeccah said...

hahahahah..I havent been to a concert in years. I think I might be too old?

I do love me some Daughtty & Underwood.

The Fritz Facts said...

Daughtry...yum...I need a moment...

Anyway...

I love to people watch. Last week I saw a 40 something biker chick in a bikini...in Target. Not easy to refrain from giggles. I swear I am older that 12!

Becky said...

One of the best places to people watch is at a state fair. There you will find examples of more non-forking family trees than you ever thought possible.

Leslie said...

Oh, Daughtry. I'd love to see Daughtry in concert.

I love to people watch, too. The bad thing for me is, Julia is always with me and she can't just watch, she has to talk about the people. Like the scary looking biker dude with all the tattoos in line at Wal-Mart. "Mom, why did that guy write all over himself? Mom! Do you see that guy? Did he write on himself? Hey Mister! Did you write that stuff on your arm?" I can't notice anyone I wouldn't be afraid to talk to.