Prologue: Yes, I realize that this is an immense wall of text, but it's actually a pretty entertaining story...or at least I think so. It's a bit of a rant, anecdote and introspective summary, complete with its own moral, all combined into one lengthy mass of characters. If you are turned off by how voluminous the wording is, then don't read it and go do something else. I enjoy writing lengthy pieces, but I have no expectation that anyone will read or even want to read them. Writing is cathartic for me, so even if nobody reads this, I will have enjoyed a therapeutic experience and improved my wordsmithing and grammar. Thanks. Enjoy! Or don't!
Oh, one last thing...I didn't proof read this, so if there are typos, well, then...um...that's just the way it is. That's all...
Hey everyone!
Random Thought: This is more of a personal anecdote than a random thought, however, it will contain several thoughts. Let's get to the story...
Yesterday at around 7pm MST, on a cool spring night, I left my apartment on foot, headed for the Walgreens situated a mere one-tenth of a mile away. In an effort to keep my restless hands busy, and to promote neuroplasticity within my synapses, I brought along with me a six foot length of 10mm Teufelburger EpiCord so that I could use it to practice tying knots with to make the trek less mundane. At some point, it dawned on me that it was far too dark, with the side walks insufficiently lit, providing inadequate light for seeing what I was doing with my hands. Still bored, I switched gears, and I ended up tying a Fisherman's/Barrel knot with five wraps at one end (to serve as a heavy weight) and then I tied a double Fisherman's on the opposite end, where I gripped my hand just above it. I then started swinging it around in circles because...apparently that's the kind of shit I do to entertain myself. The double Fisherman's was tied to ensure that the cord didin't slip out of my hand as I swung the heavier one around.
I arrived at Walgreens and folded the cord, with knots, into quadrants (
see image below for a representation of how I actually held it) and held it in my left hand, walked to the back where the pharmacy was and asked the pharmacist to refill one of my psychiatric medications that I take for sleep. While I waited for them to refill the prescription, I walked over to the refrigerator aisle and bought four Monster energy drinks. I elected to pay for them at the front since I was now on that side and, while I was paying, the cashier asked, "do you have a puppy?" I intuitively knew he had mistaken the cord plus knots for a dog toy and so I explained to him what it actually was, how it was hit resistant, used for tree climbing and that I brought it along with me to practice knots. The young twenty-something guy seemed genuinely excited to learn about hitch cords, I payed with my card, wished him a good night and then headed again to pharmacy in the back of the store.
Still holding the cord folded in fourths, still holding it in the same left hand, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that my prescription was already finished and filled. I paid my copay, thanked the pharmacist, walked out the front of the store and headed back home. After returning home fifteen minutes later, I had just begun to settle back inside when I heard a forceful knocking on my door. I was alarmed because I wasn't expecting anyone and I almost never receive uninvited visitors. Upon unlocking and opening the door, I was greeted by two of the Phoenix police department's finest men in uniform who said, "Hi there. First of all, you're not in any trouble, but we're here to check in on you." I was utterly confused. One of the officers then asked, "were you planning on hurting yourself tonight?" I was like, "that's a hard 'no.' Why on Eart
h are you asking me that question?"
The officer replied, "we got a call from someone who was really concerned about you. They said you looked really tired." I looked directly into both cop's eyes and asked them a direct question, "do I look tired to you?" One of them replied, "no, you do not." My mind started racing as I tried to established who had made the call. Finally, after some needless probing, and after asking the very good question of, "how would anyone know where I live?" they told me that it had been the pharmacist who called them, hence he had access to my personal information. I still was completely unsure as to why anyone had made the call and the cops didn't seem to have any answers, which I thought was a bit weird. They did a welfare check based on some pharmacist's concerns over my completely imaginary fatigue? None of it made any sense.
The cops asked me if I wanted to harm myself or anyone else and I told them jokingly, "you should call homicide because I killed my workout last night." One of them thought that was hilarious and the other sort of half-grinned. I said, "no, absolutely not." They told me all was good and that they were going to be on their way and then they left and I went back inside. It was at that moment that I suddenly realized what had happened: the pharmacist must have thought that the cord with knots in my hand was a noose. The five wrap FIsherman's knot maybe looked like the wraps of a noose...even though it doesn't terminate with a loop...and even though I was smiling, alert, and friendly while in the store...and even though you can't hang yoursel with six freaking feet of hitch cord (well, never say never, but you get the point).
The moral of the story: Your average person knows absolutely f*ck all about knots. To the untrained and uneducated eye, many of them look pretty much the same. This pharmacist must have believed I actually nonchalantly traipsed into Walgreens toting a noose to refill the psych medication I would have more than likely discontinued against doctor's orders if I had actually been suicidal. Whatever, I guess I'm glad somebody cared enough to make the call, even though a huge part of me feels really perturbed that I was profiled as a having suicidality simply because this pharmacist decided he was going to make assumptions about what I was holding instead of outright asking me and at least attempting to gain confirmation of his ignorance-driven suspicions/concerns.
For the love of God people, don't be like me. Buy a freaking fidget spinner or some shit. Don't haul around segments of hitch cord and tie knots that resemble implements of death around your average person because your average person has an IQ that is between 85-115 and 80% of the population has an IQ below 115. So, considering that an IQ of 85 or lower indicates that somone is "borderline impaired" (formerly referred to as "borderline retarded") to "fully impaired", the vast majority of people in this world are not particularly intelligent.
Don't be a victim of stupidity like I was. Don't give your fellow homo sapiens a reason to prove to you that they border on impairment at your expense. Apparently, the average person uses rope so little, or not at all, to the point where two different people within 10 minutes made two completely inaccurate assumptions about what was in my hand and, for whatever reason, to them...ropes are like shiny freaking objects.
The intelligent person would have asked, "excuse me, what is that in your hand?" if they were uncertain.
THE END/FIN
