So Shrek Walks Into A Bar

By now it’s well-documented that I don’t care much for people. I’m kind of like Shrek before he mellowed out faster than REO Speedwagon. Or Bryan Adams. Or Aerosmith. You get the idea. So normally once I leave work my goal is to make it home to the nurturing bosom of the home swamp with the least amount of interaction. I’d probably even walk right past Crystal Bernard.

Speaking of walking right past people, I was at Wrigley Field about a week ago (technically the patio of a bar across the street from Wrigley) before a Friday afternoon game and Denise Richards walked right by on the sidewalk. She was being followed by a camera crew and drew hoots and cheers from the crowd on the patio. The following are my thoughts, in chronological order:

Wow, she’s short.
Wow, she’s wearing a ton of makeup. What’s she hiding? (I learned that from Moist.)
It looks like rain – I really should have brought my slicker.
Wait, why is she famous? Besides having a public divorce from… Charlie Sheen, maybe?
I’m so going to order a hot dog when I get into the stadium.
Why are people cheering for her? Oh, right, I’m at Wrigley Field.
What the hell am I doing at Wrigley Field?
She certainly was short.

But I digress. So I don’t like people, Shrek, getting home…

I live upstairs from my landlords. They’re generally pretty cool, but if I’m walking past Crystal Bernard I’m certainly not in the mood for small talk with them. As I come into our foyer I note that their door is open, which means they are likely on their way out and I need to hustle in my own door to avoid any dreaded interactions. I whip open my door and I’m greeting by their 5 year old and their 3 year old sliding head first down the steps at my feet. Argh! Not only that but their mom is standing at the top of our steps. I briefly considered saying, “Sorry, wrong house,” and then walking around the block until the chaos cleared but I had already been recognized. I tiptoed around the ankle-biters, made pleasantries with their mom, and collapsed upon the couch.

I almost felt bad when I found out the reason they were there was to deliver some fresh out of the oven chocolate chip cookies. I wonder if some small talk will get me another half dozen.