Watercolor on paper. Copyright 2011 Totsymae

I already know one of these reasons is gonna make you go, ugh! When I see folk on the news shows talking about OCDs and whatnot, I get to judging and immediately think, “Now, that’s about one crazy twit right there. She needs some help!” I ain’t being biased or nothing but most of the OCD folk I see are women. I worked with a woman and she had this compulsion for cleaning. I mean, soon as a little party was over, she’d jump straight into cleaning mode. So, at first I’m thinking, not only do I have a friend in Jesus but I rather like this friend, that all I have to do is plan something and she cleans up after me. See, I was the planner, so it was a two-way street. Okay? Well, long after I saw that everything was clean, she’d still be going at it. I was like, “You need to sit your ass down ‘ cause you ’bout driving me crazy.” Told me her ex used to tell her the same thing and I’m like, “Get out of here!”

It’s a trip, you know, these little idiosyncrasies that can become a huge part of a person’s life. I mean, do you have any small habits that get on your own nerves? What triggers you to go into crazy mode or stops your action? Folks, I’m about to reveal a very, very dark secret I am most ashamed of as to why I can never participate in Black Friday. (Deep breath, as I rehearse my dramatic disposition for the Dr. Phil Show) Do keep in mind that I’ve never been treated and this is me opening the closet door and inviting y’all to come into more disturbing predicaments that’ve happened in my life to define who I am.

I need to trace this back to high school. This triggered my phobia, really and truly. See, the school was very overcrowded. I mean, we walked the halls to change classes and it was shoulder to shoulder with folk breathing down the back and sides of you. It was awful for somebody who didn’t like to be touched by random folks and guess who the hell that was? Yes. Me.  That’s reason numero uno. Nombre deux, as a result of this overcrowdedness, I became claustrophobic. I just get real hot and bothered and it feels like I’m being smothered. For real.

The biggie, reason number three, came the time it was raining and we were waiting under the little overhang for the school bus. You know, it was mostly us girls under there, not wanting to get our dos wet and all.

Okay, we’re waiting and waiting some more. All of a sudden, I dropped my book. I was halfway studious halfway through school, so I was halfway expected to be really successful, so every now and then, a book would go home. Well, I dropped my book, right. Bent down to pick it up under the little overhang where us girls were trying to stay cute and shit. I bend down, folks. Okay. Now, I had to kinda squish down there and wiggle my way back up. You still with me? I’m down there, got my hand on the book and my mistake was that I didn’t keep my damn head facing the ground. Uh, uh. For some reason or another, my face went forward, folks and you wouldn’t believe what I experienced down there, picking up that book. Folks, I got a whiff of my friend’s ass! I mean, damn ditty damn damn, why, oh why I didn’t keep my head toward the ground, I couldn’t tell you but folks…(a slight sigh escapes me)…Her ass was stank. Like a rotten kinda sour-like smell. I’m telling you, I could never look at her the same from that day onward. I know, I’m just no count but the relationship was different after that. I never got over it.

Now, I saw the folk on my TV set shopping on Black Friday and I just can’t imagine dropping something and having to go down there amongst heaps of asses to pick it up. Naw, I just can’t go there no more.  So, on account of that experience, I’d never be caught up in the madness of no Black, Blue or White Friday. Deal or no deal, I ain’t got time for that kinda foolishness or worst yet, no ass-smelling either.

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