Valentine's Day. Ehh...

Today was Valentine's Day. Kind of a pointless holiday in my opinion. Like, I don't mind the whole, "Let's immortalize the patron saint by putting a day aside in his honor". Knock yourselves out. It's the cupid nonsense that irks me. Fat babies with slings of arrows? Not exactly relevant...

Anywho.

I forgot my dancing shoes in my car for rehearsal today, so three minutes before we started, I ran out to the parking lot through the front of the District Auditorium in my rainboots. Except the floor was slippery and I almost accidentally stepped on the Indian painted on the floor (which is bad luck), so to avoid it, I swerved sideways and crashed into the door. All the while a small man holding a broom, was propped up against the wall, watching me. I kind of nervously laughed really loudly. And ran out the door to my car, changed my shoes and ran back in. When I opened the door, the little man was still there, holding the broom. Only this time he was balancing it on one finger.
I said, "Wow, that's impressive"
He said, "Practice makes perfect"
He said, "Valentine's day reminds me of summer. Hi dee hi!"
He said, "I hope I get some skittles."
He said, "You know! Taste the rainbow. Booyah."
You may be wondering why I didn't say anything during this period of time, well. You see I would have, IF ANYTHING HE WAS SAYING MADE ANY SENSE! Instead, I just awkwardly laughed loudly and said Happy Valentine's Day, and walk/ran away. Alas, the floor was still slippery, and in my attempts to escape I slipped. Bracing myself on the wall I stood up as
He said, "Have a nice trip?"
But instead of following it up with the ever-so-classy, "see you next fall", he finished the pun with:
"See you next Valentine's Day."
Which doesn't even make any sense.

Come on man.

Why is there a chicken in the street?

What the hell man? I'm trying to drive to work? Why is there a rooster with furry feet on the mountain in the middle of the road in the middle no where? I honestly don't understand.

Despite my better judgment, I stopped. I don't know what I was trying to do. Help the rooster? Eat the rooster? Catch the rooster? God knows. But I got out and clenched my fist like I had chicken feed in my hand. It came toward me, got close enough, then attacked my with its feathered talons. It ripped my tights and I had to go to work with holes in my attire. Damn.

I explained the rippage to one of the bussers named Jose. He responded, "Chelsea, that why you no go to the cock fight."

Awesome.