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camwynto remind me how little I actually have in common with most other people, today I was thumbing through the entertainment/comics section of the office newspaper. It was yesterday's copy, which I had not really read at home, so the article on the second inside page caught my eye. Shaolin: Wheel of Life is going to be performed at the Beacon Theatre in New York on 27 November. Real monks and everything. I went looking for my celphone to see if I could call a friend who might want to go (his number's programmed into it, rather than memorised), but I'd left the phone home. So instead I went to look for one of my office-mates. I thought perhaps if I ask about people who might be interested, she might mention some kind of interest or curiosity instead - whatever works, right?
Wrong-oh. When I ask about whether she knows anyone who'd be interested in seeing a bunch of Chinese monks kick ass on Broadway, the response from both the askee and the other person in the room was phrased as follows: "I don't think it would be possible for me to get farther from interested in that."
They were laughing and all, so I smiled and laughed back, but... well, it was just a little stunning to realize that I'd once again found a point of Not Being Like The Other Children. One of the women is old enough to be my mother's aunt, and the other is only a little older than me. Somehow I would have thought... I dunno, maybe that the younger one might've thought it might be interesting. Or something.
I made a comment about how there was a time when I thought I had a snowball's chance in hell of growing up normal; they told me that they'd never thought that, not for a minute, and I felt a little better. Let's face it, when I was in grade school I decided my favourite muppet was Gonzo, and I've never looked back since. It's just that I don't always realise exactly how far from the majority I tend to skew.
Oh well. Better chance at a good ticket for me, then. I'll see if I can reach Kin-Hon when I get home.
Wrong-oh. When I ask about whether she knows anyone who'd be interested in seeing a bunch of Chinese monks kick ass on Broadway, the response from both the askee and the other person in the room was phrased as follows: "I don't think it would be possible for me to get farther from interested in that."
They were laughing and all, so I smiled and laughed back, but... well, it was just a little stunning to realize that I'd once again found a point of Not Being Like The Other Children. One of the women is old enough to be my mother's aunt, and the other is only a little older than me. Somehow I would have thought... I dunno, maybe that the younger one might've thought it might be interesting. Or something.
I made a comment about how there was a time when I thought I had a snowball's chance in hell of growing up normal; they told me that they'd never thought that, not for a minute, and I felt a little better. Let's face it, when I was in grade school I decided my favourite muppet was Gonzo, and I've never looked back since. It's just that I don't always realise exactly how far from the majority I tend to skew.
Oh well. Better chance at a good ticket for me, then. I'll see if I can reach Kin-Hon when I get home.
