As Seen On TV

A week or so ago, I met a woman while walking the dog. No, not like “I met a woman.”  She was weird and chatty, not uncommon when you’re dealing with dog people.  The conversation was simple and banal, interactions I’ve had 1000s of times: “Is she a retriever? Looks like she has a little cattle dog in her. Have you tried CBD for her hips?” The latter being a newer question.  And, of course, the Bay Area standard, which precedes all observations, and is usually prompted by “What’s her name?” Instead of saying the name and moving on to the above observations and questions, I find that most people state the dog’s history: “She’s a rescue, I rescued her.” And then they state some irregularity in her because she’s a rescue. Being part dick, I fight the urge to respond, “Of course she is.” Or, if I’m really feeling it, I say, “I got mine from a puppy mill in Idaho. Instead costing $2500, she was $1500. The hips are bad, but she was cheap. Pretty good, eh?” You can imagine the looks I get. And, if I’m feeling a little less than “dickish,” I tell them the truth: “She’s not a rescue. I got her from the pound. $35 bucks.” In my mind, pound trumps rescue in liberalism. I’m better than you!

Her predictable conversation is not the story, her jacket was. It’s hard to describe her jacket, which ran from her head to her feet.  However, the minute I saw her, these words popped into my brain: As Seen On TV. I know, I know, I don’t know what that means, but it was there, bumping against the head matter. I thought it was a Shamwow, but I was wrong. Shamwow is a fancy towel seen on As Seen On TV (Side note: If you ever visit Bed, Bath and Beyond, they have an As Seen On TV section. It’s pretty cool, trust me).

Her jacket was basically a velour mummy/sleeping bag, which was meant for lounging on a sofa while watching TV. It was something you buy while watching TV and immediately regret. Hence, As Seen On TV.

With a closed, cocoon bottom, a double zipper on the side and hoodie-like top, you could lay on the sofa with only your face exposed, snug and warm. It was something that should never leave the house. If you did, you would have to hop -- there were no legs. So, instead of hopping, she created an opening in the bottom, unzipping it from her waist to her feet and stuck her legs through the whole. One problem, though, with her legs exposed, the bottom of the jacket hung in front of her legs like a giant sack of rice, bumping her shins and feet with every step. She didn’t seem to mind, alternating between this tactic and walking bow legged, which caused the rice sack to dangle between her extended legs like a giant penis. It was jarring to see in person.

As we exchanged crazy talk, I subtly snuck peeks at her jacket.  It was fascinating. Not only was it missing legs, it had no arms. If it were yellow, it could double as a banana costume. If this wasn’t odd enough, there was something definitely going on underneath the jacket. Her unexposed left shoulder extended to the top of her ear, forming a velour circle that she could rest her head on. It looked like a giant walnut was balancing on her shoulder. Noticing my staring, she addressed the issue, saying she recently had shoulder surgery. I nodded but I wanted to say, “You mean shoulder augmentation?”  There was also something going on around her midsection.

The shoulder was my cue to leave. I said goodbye and slowly walked back to my car.  She followed, talking nonsense all the way: “There was this Japanese man with an Akita at my old condo complex that would stand silently with his dog, smoking. For hours, it seemed. This was during my 2-year marriage. Man, that was a mistake. Someone reported him on Next Door.”  She paused, probably thinking about the marriage and then talked about Next Door nonsense. And then it all made sense, she was one of those crazy Next Door people that post about drivers not using their blinkers and receive 100 indignant responses. It all made sense. Now I had a face to the craziness.

I got in my Prius, slammed it into drive, put the pedal to the metal and slowly, silently coasted out of the parking lot, leaving little to no impact on the concrete