I'm Not Too Good at Much Stuff

I've been thinking about making a bracelet for myself -- seriously.  It will say, "WWNPD?" 

"What Would a Normal Person Do?"  I honestly ask myself that a lot.  What would a normal person do, in this situation?  What should I do to not mess this up, to come across as a human with typical, baseline, everyday, coping skills?

I can't do stuff right.  Important, everyday stuff.

I tried to fix a kitchen cabinet door.  It had a bad hinge.  I went to True Value Hardware and purchased a hinge.  I went home and drilled holes for the hinge.  It didn't quite fit.  I drilled an additional hole, then realized I had the hinge backwards.  I drilled more holes, then realized I was installing the hinge upside-down.  I drilled some more holes, and then realized I was putting the hinge inside the door when it was supposed to be outside.

Net result:  Hinge never fixed, 16 new holes in cabinet.  We then moved to Texas.

I can't do normal-person stuff. 

I needed a job once, so I applied at this pie restaurant.  It was called "Pie-Full Delight", and they needed a waiter.  My interview was very impressive.  I communicated beautifully, and the owner-lady was taken by my charm and insight, and thrilled to have "such an intelligent young man" on her little wait staff.

I was the worst waiter in the history of pie.

They didn't have the heart to fire me.  I left forgotten meals up on the counter.  I forgot which tables were mine.  I was eventually assigned just one (1) table.  I feared messing up again, so I creepily watched them eat until they were sufficiently creeped out to leave.

Within two disturbing weeks, they moved me to a little room in back, where I interfaced with customers no longer.  My job?  Full-time pie-box folder. 

I wasn't very good at that, either.

I took a job at the FootLocker at the mall!  At least I'd get a cool ref shirt!  They assigned me, as well, to a back room, putting shoe boxes in order.  It was tedious, but at least I could tell myself, "Soon, I will be issued a ref's uniform, and that will be cool."  And whistle, too.

"Next week, I think," my manager told me, smugly, while he stood there with ref uniform and whistle.

He told me that for four weeks.  "Next time -- we'll have your ref's uniform."  I asked why they wouldn't move me out onto the sales floor, and he said I needed more Back Room Shoebox Training.  I got depressed, and eventually gave up.  I never got my ref uniform.

My last day, I used my employee discount to get a super-cool pair of Adidas shoes.  My paycheck wasn't that huge, so I think I had to give the manager like six dollars on my way out.  We were both kinda sheepish about it.

It started early.  In high school, I got a job working at a popcorn factory.  "Hutch Big Puffs".  They asked me to paint the outside of some metal buildings, but I didn't do a good job.  I tried hard, though.  They eventually had me sit in a lawn chair, on the factory floord, and scrape moldy labels off popcorn jars.  I did this with a putty knife. 

It was a 12 hour day.  Sometimes, some Harley-dudes would sit with me and we'd all sit and scrape. They talked about motorcycles and guns and stuff.  I contributed to the conversation as I could, and, as a flute-player and the President of the Student Librarians Association, I had much to say. 

I eventually learned to stop saying it.

Anyway, I'm not very good at much stuff.  I'm like a bumbling genius, except for the genius part.  The other day I walked home happily from the gym.  Then, the next day, my car was gone from in front of our house?  Stolen?  No -- I left it at the gym, where I had driven it the day before.

I want a bracelet, "What Would a Normal Person Do?", but I'm told a normal person doesn't do that.

Comments

[Joel]

I want to make a movie about your life. Only its a slighted version with more strange radio personnel, references to Star Wars, and some little kid next door that stares at you in a really creepy way.
Best movie EVER.

[Monica Battaile]

Ok, Ok...Uncle!!! I'm crying so hard it's no longer considered laughing...

Do you remember the scene in "A Christmas Story" where Ralphie is waiting in line to talk to Santa and the kid in front of him with the pilot's hat and the pilot's glasses turns around and says, "I like Dorothy. I like the Wizard of Oz."

That little kid is you.

And who am I? I am the Kamp Krusty Kontributor. ;)

Beat you to it...

[Monica Battaile]

Joel, I would be first in line for your movie.

[Shawn Bashor]

When you figure out "what a normal person does," let me know, because I would love to apply this in social situations.

[Sandy]

You are the male version of me (scary, but comforting). When I lived in San Francisco, I'd drive my car to work, but forgot I did that and take the bus home, wondering where my car was. This would happen alot and I still have recurring dreams about it.

I'll take a dozen bracelets.

[Heidi Renee]

I was just going to suggest a job as a bracelet maker - I think I have a few friends (husband included) who would benefit from one!

[Michael P. Taylor]

Brant, you sound like a model of competence to me. Take this word of encouragement from someone who once got off the train home from work and cycled to the house before realising he'd left his shoes on the train. It takes a special kind of stupid to cycle barefoot and not notice.

[Carolyn Hansen]

You're very good at certain things.

[Brant]

Ooh! Kamp Krusty goes R-rated. I like this.

And we're married, so no one can criticize it, only be vaguely unsettled and mildly alarmed. Which is why this blog is here.

I like it.

[Monica Battaile]

I'm starting to feel better and better about myself...in general and as a person...

[M.E.]

Life is like a box of chocolates. Ya never know what you're gonna get. (Forrest Gump)

BTW, nice save, Carol. ;)

Hmm, Brant never replies to my posts. Does that mean he thinks I'm boring or just plain weird?

Alex, I'll take wierd for $200.

[Shawn Bashor]

I'm personally a little grossed out. Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Hansen...

[Seth Ward]

I don't know. It might cofuse people. I mean, when I see WWNPD, I immediately think, "What Would Nano Pornstars do?"

Something to consider. Espeicially after your wife's comment.

[Doug Hannah]

One more thing at which you excel:

Scooping up my cat's poop.

Boo-Ya, Readers! Mwa-ha-ha! Woot-woot!

(And for the haters, it's a TRUE story)

[Brant]

M.E., you RULE.

And you misspelled "weird".

[freebiebeebe]

Okay let me try this again. The first time didn't come out right. I stayed home from church today feeling pretty blah and just plain bad about myself! Then I read your blog and TAAA DAAA I find that I am not alone in FREAKDOM that we actually have awesome leadership! Yes Brant you have my vote over Obama, Hillary, Mitt, Mickey Mouse or the guy who use to play football and then did movies and got on TV! See he had to try lots of stuff too before something CLICKED!

[Chip]

"WWNPD"; I like it. We had a waiter constantly lurk around our table, filling up the water and coffee after every sip. Come to think of it, he kept offering us pie. Nice guy but hyper-focused and overbearing. He was extremely articulate and charming; we liked his perspective on life saying, boy, that guy should quit this profession and just ponder.

wonder what happened to that dapper kid?

[Mrk]

So you played flute AND accordian? Wouldn't it have been easier to just carry around a rolled up newspaper and ask people to hit you with it?

[Fay]

I had a comment, but I forgot because still I'm laughing at the other comments.

[Fay]

...that's kinda ironic that I forgot what I was going to say, since this is a post about forgetting things, huh? The sad part is that I find this funny. I'll stop typing nonsense now.

[kari]

well, kudos for TRYING to fix the cabinet door!! shortly after we moved into our house, my husband tried to fix our bedroom door, which could not go back on the hinges because we'd put new carpet in, the door was too long. so after a few months of living w/o a door on our bedroom and enough complaing from *this wife*--he finally decided to remedy the situation. he measured how much he needed to saw off, took the door down to the basement and commenced to sawing. this was a tedious process because at the time we didn't have like a real, electric saw---he only had a manual, un-electric, hand saw. so, he takes the door upstairs to attach it to its hinges.....and......he saw off the top of the door, not the bottom. SO, now we have a nice cool-air-return system built into our bedroom....*sigh* anyway, don't feel bad. oh and the car thing---sounds like something my husband would do too, 'cept for the going to the gym part. :)

[Wolfgang Amadeus]

What would a normal person do? I love it..
I read your article, and actually could relate to some of it. As a pianist, from a musical family, I have difficulty with things that "normal people" do.

Of course, I really hate people to mess with my pencils, ink, pens, and scores that I leave laying around. They tell me its a mess. Crikey, its just that way it goes when I work- and I really hate hunting for my tools.

As for jobs-they have never agreed with me. I have been a church organist/choir director and also a Cantor. It really doesn't pay well. I have also held jobs that resemble the kind of thing that normal people would have. I found them terribly boring. Nothing like locating airplane parts in a Warehouse. Its really brain ripping.

Thats the trouble when you are gifted with skills that "normal people" don't have. The world doesn't understand- and hence you're stuck.

Sooooo- now I give Independent music lessons. I pray for students. Lately, I have had many calls- but very few takers. Sigh.

Such is life I guess. Back to my musings and dreams.

Wolfie

N.B. I come by Crownrings site. WAM

[Wolfgang Amadeus]

What would a normal person do? I love it..
I read your article, and actually could relate to some of it. As a pianist, from a musical family, I have difficulty with things that "normal people" do.

Of course, I really hate people to mess with my pencils, ink, pens, and scores that I leave laying around. They tell me its a mess. Crikey, its just that way it goes when I work- and I really hate hunting for my tools.

As for jobs-they have never agreed with me. I have been a church organist/choir director and also a Cantor. It really doesn't pay well. I have also held jobs that resemble the kind of thing that normal people would have. I found them terribly boring. Nothing like locating airplane parts in a Warehouse. Its really brain ripping.

Thats the trouble when you are gifted with skills that "normal people" don't have. The world doesn't understand- and hence you're stuck.

Sooooo- now I give Independent music lessons. I pray for students. Lately, I have had many calls- but very few takers. Sigh.

Such is life I guess. Back to my musings and dreams.

Wolfie

N.B. I come by Crownrings site. WAM

[MamasBoy]

At least you are one of those "art sensitive" folks. It took me several days and multiple readings to get what you were blogging about a few days ago. All I saw was a loaf of bread. I probably should have left it at that, but I hate unresolved stories and feeling left out on jokes.

I wouldn't worry too much about the hinge thing. I worked for a contractor building homes for several summers and still do stupid shit. Saturday, I made bought, returned and then repurchased a piece of PVC pipe to mate with the existing piping as I replumbed a 60 ft stretch of drain pipe to add slope and eliminate the perpetual clogging. Getting new hardware to match with existing hardware is confusing for the majority of city-raised folks, including those of us with some experience in construction. It does get easier with practice, though.

MB

[Chris, who never posts, but occasionally comments.]

Brant,

Is it time to tell the folding chair story again? Some of your newer readers may have missed it.