Friday, March 20, 2009

Strays.

I went to see my grandmother the other day. Her friend N was there, and he had a rant to share.
Now while N rants, he's keeping a very straight face, and sometimes it's hard to hear what he's saying, so people who aren't used to his particular form of broken Swedish normally just smile and nod politely. Cause they're Swedes and that's what Swedes do, they nod politely while not really paying attention. Anyway, N, an elderly gentleman, kicks off these insane monologues about everything and nothing, and when he knows people don't really follow but just pretend to, he tends to.. stray from the serious path.

So. N told me, and the others present, about how he had been to the doctor several times for his frequent nose bleeds. The others are doing the Swedish thing and he knows it, so he goes "the doctor can't do anything to fix my nose, so I asked him for a nose transplant instead. The doctor says okay, and he had some nice noses there to choose from, and they really were very nice. REALLY nice. There was one I liked in particular so I said THIS is the nose I want, and it was a really cool gorilla nose. He's going to transplant it next thursday."

By then I find it hard to not laugh at his serious face and the nodding pale people around him, so I start giggling and everyone thinks I'M the idiot. After all, he was talking about a serious condition. Blood, ferchrissakes. And, you know, stuff. But he winked at me and now we have a secret, our contempt for the Normal People. The rambling immigrant with the nose bleed and the village idiot. I could be in worse company I guess.

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