Strange things happen to me. Strange things, but not THAT strange. Do you know what I mean? Weird things, but none so remarkable to merit being retold. But in the last week, three pseudo-strange things have happened to me, and although in their own right they do not make very good stories, I feel like perhaps all three at once might make them worth telling. If I'm wrong, well, sorry (kind of).

*Note: all three of these events took place within a quarter mile radius of where each of the other events took place.

1. The other day, I was downtown walking across a parking lot, and I was carrying a to-go box from Wealthy Street Bakery. A guy (who started out about 100 feet behind me) yells "YUM! DONUTS!"

Julie: (courtesy laugh, walks faster)
Guy: (yelling, walking faster) "At least tell me what kind they are!"
Julie: "Scones, muffins. No donuts."
(Guy has now caught up with Julie)
Guy: "Hi, I'm Adam."
Julie: "Hi, I'm Julie." (walking faster)
Adam: "I like your purse." (walking faster)
Julie: "Thanks." (walking even faster)
Adam: "Is it made out of hemp or something?"
Julie: "I don't think so. I don't really know-"
Adam: (interrupting) "Are you a stoner?"
Julie: "No, are you?"
Adam: "Nah, not any more."

2. I'm downtown, driving down Fulton headed for the exact parking lot where only days earlier I had the pleasure of meeting Adam. I notice in front of me a mini-van from a local flower shop. The back end of the car says "CAUTION: FLOWER DELIVERY IN PROGRESS" This raises many questions, respectively. I then notice that below the warning is a huge dent across the back of the car. This confirms everything.

3. I was walking downtown today, towards Fulton, away from the infamous parking lot and saw something written on the ground that I hadn't noticed before. I walked a little closer and turned my head slightly to read it. It said, "If you can read this, f*** you!"

Thanks, and have a nice day.