Paranoia Strikes Again

This morning, I asked Dan to go into the donation box and remove the 5, 10, 20 dollar bills. I asked him to place them in the register. The donation box is pretty secure; it requires that you unscrew the top to get inside.

After about 20 minutes, Dan came into my office with a note detailing every bill he retrieved from the box (five 5s, one 10, and one 20). He then went on to explain that he has some psychological problems, and that he is prone to paranoia. He said he is being medicated for it, but wanted me to know that the "old Dan" would have been very concerned about the task he was given. "Old Dan" might have been very concerned that one of the "higher ups" would notice that there was less cash in the donation box, and, in order to solve the mystery of where that cash went, would seek out the screwdriver used to open the box, have it fingerprinted and accuse him of theft.

I reminded Dan that I asked him to do this task and assured him that no one would accuse him of stealing $55. Dan then assured me that he doesn't really think that way anymore -- just wanted me to know that was how he USED to think.

Right.....

Just When You Think You've Seen It All

Fridays are turning out to be very interesting that's for sure. I arrived about 11:15, walked in the side door to find a visitor sitting with Chuck at the computer. That was fine. When I was introduced the guy pointed out that I was 15 minutes late. WTF??

Following me in the side door was the person of interest. A very tall thin person with graying brown hair cut in a bob with bangs, thin hairless legs, toenail and fingernail polish - deep red, silky purple flowered dress with a lovely sweater and cute black pumps. "Am I coming in the right door? I just saw someone else come in this way," the person said with a deep manly voice. Yep! It was a guy dressed as a woman! It took me most of the afternoon to realize it was actually a cross-dresser. I thought he/she might be going through a sex change. I was so worried each time I spoke with him because I couldn't stop myself from saying he or him, and she clearly wanted to be thought of as a she. She called herself Mommy at one point. She is a single parent of a 12 year old boy. Do you think he might be a little screwed up? The entire afternoon was so uncomfortable. I guess it's a good thing that neither Joy, Linda, or Becky were there. I'm afraid I would have had the giggles. Kathleen, Chuck and I did well together. It was very hard to get him/her to leave however and I finally pretty much told him I had work to do. Then he spent time talking to Chuck in the volunteer room...alone. Hehee...I didn't even want to go rescue him! Chuck admitted he learned a lot more than he wanted to about this person. Apparently he is president of some gay/lesbian group and he is definitely a cross-dresser. He also is a truck driver!!!!!!! Can it get any better?

In the guys defense, he is a bright, very nice person. His main intereset is genealogy and he is a webmaster.

Oh did I mention? He has the most obvious tic. His entire head jerks to one side, his eyes squeeze shut and his mouth is crooked when this happens. Oh yeah - he is missing some teeth also.

Enough said. Snort!

Got one

Tuesday turned out to be good for the funny stuff. Hopefully I will remember some of it. I'll begin with the last hour of the day - 3-4. A visitor came in to look for family information. As she sat at the library table, she couldn't help but talk to the other person at the table - our own Julia?? As Julia was sitting there sorting envelopes by zip code, she continually complained about how she hated doing that, and she seemed fairly confused by the numbering system of the Post Office. I joined them to help the patron go through a file and Julia asked me if she and I had met. I replied we had numerous times. She didn't remember me (fine with me) and had even asked Joy about me but said Joy didn't know who I was either. This made the patron feel really good about who was helping her. I tried to give the visitor a look that said don't worry, but I think it wasn't necessary, since I obviously was helping her find stuff.

This same hour produced some conversations about the Dutch and Julia continually asked the patron who was being extraordinarily patient about what words sounded Dutch to her. ???? Remember the visitor only had an hour to research and was trying to read through the files. Our brand new research volunteer Kate said nothing about Julia but I could tell she was thinking about it.

There was also something about the English accent being soothing and Julia said she even tried it out herself.

To end this lengthy entry, while complaining about the postal code sorting and after commenting about who I was, Julia said she really didn't think she would ever come back to Brookside again. It wasn't us, but she thinks she is done. A minute later, as she was leaving at 4, she yelled up to Joy and said see you Thursday!

I Knew It!

I just knew this would happen - as soon as Becky found out about her new job, she stopped blogging about the funny stuff at Brookside. Joy sure is too busy to do it now that she has been deserted by all and somewhat by those who actually come in daily. I will have to either make some stuff up, which wouldn't be hard, or go in more often just for observation purposes. Hm-m-m

Sometimes $1.50 breaks the bank

Just now, as I was sitting here preoccupied with work, the front door opened and I heard a couple of people walk in. I waited for Julie to greet them, and wasn't very surprised when she didn't.

I walked to the front exhibit room and found an elderly couple in there looking around. I greeted them and welcomed them, and the woman said, "I've been here before, awhile ago." I told her that there was a $1.50 admission charge. She said it had been free before. I apologized and she said, "Frank, let's go. Frank!" Frank was absorbed in reading an exhibit label. "Frank, you have to pay, so let's go. It was free before!" I apologized again, thanked them for coming, and they left.

$1.50. I'm just saying.

The Waterboy

Gary is sitting in the backyard, at the picnic table, leaning on his elbow with one hand propped under his chin, eyes glazed. His go-to look.
The other hand is holding the garden hose, which is spraying water on nothing in particular, just a grassy part of the lawn that looks just as green as the rest of the property. There are no plants there, no brown grass, no nothing. I watched him for a minute, and he didn't move. He's just sitting there, watering nothing, and looking bored as hell.

aaaand number 6.

Julia: "Oh my gosh, after today, I could write a book about this place! All the funny things that happen here! Hahaha!!"

TELL ME ABOUT IT.