It took a few days for her to share her biggest worry.
“Will you have enough material, Kel?”
I understand her concern. It took me a long time to realize that I actually possess the key requisite golden ticket. The undeniable fact that we’re both quirk magnets.
What’s a quirk magnet? A person to whom quirky, unusual things happen. What happens when you put two quirk magnets together? The unimaginable. A recent outing underscored that for me. And that was just one day’s worth. Imagine ten years worth.
Let me share what happened to us just this past Tuesday and perhaps you’ll agree. But first, a caveat. In order to protect the guilty, I’ll not reveal the identity of either the town or the shops.
Do Quirk Magnets Attract?
We got off to a cringeworthy, Just TypiKel start.
One of Mum’s fellow tenants kindly held open their apartment’s entrance door for me, effectively eliminating the usual need for me to be “buzzed up.” I could simply ride the elevator and deliver an unanticipated knock on Mum’s door.
Once outside Mum’s suite, I cleverly prepped by maniacally flapping my hands jazzlike above my head and plastering an idiotic grin on my face.
The door slowly opened, revealing one very startled stranger. Mum’s new cleaning lady who clearly took me for an idiot. As my arms dropped to my side and I reached out to shake her reluctant hand, Mum’s voice barked down the hallway.
“Milly, do let whomever it is, in. They can help with the sheet.”
I found my mother straddling her bed, futilely tugging on a recalcitrant, freshly washed mattress cover.
After Milly and I wrestled the corners and smoothed it out to madam’s exacting standards, I gently pressed for an imminent departure. Mum’s strident manner was an undeniable indication that she’d been cooped up in her studio long enough. Autumnal adventures called.
It was a pleasant, uneventful one hour drive. Happily, Mum’s really worked hard on her pledge to quell the incessant “Why are we taking this road? Shouldn’t you have turned left at the last corner?” Once she sorts out that random window button fidgeting, we’ll be set.
After parking, we quickly decided to toddle off to my favourite coffee shop as I was in need of caffeine and Mum required the loo. However, the disheveled lineup of at least 20 folks straddled alongside the counter and outside the bathrooms created an impossible situation for Mum and her sturdy but bulky walker. I was just about to drag her back outside when a young chap, sporting an orange construction vest and hard hat, quickly assessed her navigational difficulties.
“Make way! Folks, move over. A lady needs to get by.”
Bless him. The crowd parted and my mother sailed through.
The cafe’s outnumbered staff was clearly overwhelmed. When Mum resurfaced a good ten minutes later the queue hadn’t shuffled a jot.
“We need to get out. NOW.” She hissed.
All became clear on the sidewalk, two stores up.
“Oh lord. You won’t believe it. I pulled the tap out of the wall. It fell into the sink. Should we go back and tell them?”
Yes, of course we should have returned. But we didn’t. We were utterly defeated by the concept of battling that lineup, snagging a busy barista and then explaining how Mum couldn’t figure how to turn the water on (it was one of those automatic wave-your-hands-and-it’ll-go-on jobbies) and somehow, someway snapped off their unfortunate tap.
“Let’s go to the cranberry shop, Mum. You can sample their delicious wares and hopefully recover.”
As she wheeled up the block I continued to silently reassure myself. Surely this tap removal was a frequent occurrence? I mean, it’s not like we’re dealing with a vice grip here. She usually requires assistance manipulating lids of previously opened jars, for heaven’s sake.
Her attention was mercifully caught by an “Art Glass Shop” sign.
“Let’s just pop in. I’d like to get Mary a unique vase for Christmas.”
Excellent diversion. I reached for the knob, turned it and stepped into a lovely yet surprisingly dark interior. Mum eased her walker over the doorstep and bustled in behind me.
The entrance hallway was a tight squeeze. As our eyes struggled to adjust to the gloom, we were suddenly treated to the most annoying high-pitched ringing. Squealing babies? Keening dogs? No. Our growing yet unspoken suspicions crystallized the second the din morphed into a series of caterwauling, ear shattering wails that were somewhat reminiscent of our rape alarm incident in Thailand. Beautiful. We’d set off the alarm. Of course. The store wasn’t open and the shopkeeper had neglected to lock up the night before. Classic quirk magnet material.
Playing the fool in front of a complete stranger, the unfortunate tap incident and the inadvertent setting off of a shop alarm, all within the span of a mere two hours. Do quirk magnets attract? Apparently.
I can’t believe it took me so long to realize that I do have enough material for a book. And perhaps even a sequel.
This post was a timely hookup with the gang at Finish the Sentence Friday. Today’s sentence is “I can’t believe it took me so long to realize that…” I urge you to check out the other FTSF posts. As always, our host is Kristi of Finding Ninee. The guest hosts for this week are Ivy Walker of Uncharted and Roshni from Indian American Mom.
Enough about me and my quirk magnet of a mum. I’m curious about you. Do such oddities happen to you? Or is life a blissful calm? Better yet, do quirk magnets attract? If you’d care to share, I’d love to hear.
64 Responses
Aw, I mean it when I say I seriously cannot wait to read your book and again my offer still stands to review, as well, because I most certainly agree that you have more than enough material to share quirk magnets and all! 😉
Thank you so much, Janine. I will be sure to take you up on your very kind offer.
I am giggling myself silly reading this!! Kelly you and your Mum never cease to leave me with a smile regarding your quirk magnet adventures. I want to see the capes that go with this ominous super hero like title.
Now back at it my friend, your audience awaits!!!
Lovely to wake up to this comment, Janice. I’m off to write. Thank you.
Love your mum and her snappy walker. The directions while driving! The bathroom tap!! The alarm?!! Oh, what I would give to party with you two. (And to read that book. Can’t wait to see it. Get to work!!)
Snappy walker! Yes! I love that. It is indeed a snappy walker. She gets admiring looks and comments all the time. Our problem is ensuring that she uses it. Sometimes, she likes a little independence and strides along without it. If you lived a weensy bit closer we’d zip over to Mum’s for wine. How fun that would be!
I love quirk magnets! I actually think the two of you would make a great premise for a television show. I’m dying over the transition from pulling out the tap in the loo to a cranberry shop. You just can’t make that stuff up. If you do write a book, I’m certain it’ll bring smiles to your readers as your blog posts always do.
Oh so very true. You can’t make this stuff up and we were giggling about just that over our lunch that day. It was more than a hoot. The thing that surprised me was that she didn’t get locked in the bathroom – she usually does.
I think I’m one too! You know.. the Pie Bar. The moose! Right?? Quirky things. That’s how every day here is in this Gilmore Girls town.
And HA to all of this! The police were looking for your mom, I just know it. Pulling taps and breaking into stores.
YES to being another quirk magnet! Yay! Mom beetled away the instant the alarm went off. “Are there any police in this town?” I suspect they’re still looking for us … Do you think we can go back?
Probably, but if you see your photos on a “Wanted” poster in town, RUN.
Great advice. Will do.
HA!!! Oh I just love it! I want to come WITH YOU! I’m absolutely positively going along for the ride. But I will bribe you with this- I am a total QUIRK MAGNET TOO! Oh I am! I could tell you sooo many stories! Wait. Can I be in your book? Lets go with book THREE. 🙂
*I still wanna hear how she managed to rip off that tap*
Ha! Book Three it is! Oh man, what a time we’d have swapping stories, Chris. And imagine the fun we’d have if we got all three of us quirk magnets together. Whoa! And yes, how the hell did she manage to pull off the tap? You should have seen her face. I still giggle when I think about it. Apparently she used up all of the paper towels trying to afix it back on the wall …
Almost makes me wary of tarting this year…I know …I’ll add more rum! But what really gets me is that your mum sails through all her adventures/adversitiies with such style and grace. A woman to admire and envy.
Grinning over the tart reference, Mary. I know – her enthusiasm for life and all its adventures is a wonder. the key to her is action. She needs to get out and about every day. I dread the rainy days ahead …
Great post, Kelly. It seems every time I walk in or out of a store I set the alarm off. One time a lady went through my entire purse, only to find the culprit – a book of stamp. Who knew they had censors on them. They were paid for, by the way!
Stamp books have censors? Seriously? I’d better warn Mum.
Oh my. I suspected we were going to have some fun times come February and now I KNOW we will. Bring it on.
You nailed the story today. That is so Mum leaving the broken tap in the sink after fidgeting for so long to try and get it to work.
How long before you think you can grace that town again?
I know, right? Man alive, it was one thing after another. You should have seen her face when she hustled me out of the coffee shop and then, when that damn alarm went off. Oh my. It was astonishing to have both fall so close together. A period of only about ten minutes. Seriously. We couldn’t stop giggling over lunch. As to when we can grace that town again, well … we’re seriously hoping the streets aren’t graced with cameras. Nor the shops.
I am cracking up….The whole time thinking you have enough material for not just a book but a series and then I get to the FTSF line 😉
I’m so glad no one was arrested for vandalism or breaking & entering.
Yes, we were so very lucky to escape scott-free, Kerri! Oh man it was quite the day. Saw Mum yesterday and suggested we go on another “field trip” and she was up for it! Not sure where we’re going next. Hope it doesn’t make the papers either …
And I hope you’ll make it an audiobook because I just love your accent, even though I can’t “hear” it!
I haven’t had my quirk of the day, but it’s coming. It always does.
Oh that’s funny about my accent, Kenya. I did another reading down in Seattle on Friday and got chatting with a fellow reader. She swore she could detect an accent in the way I pronounce “about.” I’m on the west coast and pronounce it (I think!) as the Seattleites do. It’s the folks on the east coast of Canada who say “aboot” and have the accent. Surely.
I really enjoyed your Post.
(The sad thing), a lot of people have the attractive potential for quirkosity, but either deny it (‘hey! it was broken when I got here!’) or avoid the approach… ‘nah, that’s would be strange, lets stick with the rountine’.
Quirky is the less neatly-packacged-mass-marketed-one-size-fits-all side of reality. Thankfully the quirky side of the street tends to not have lines.
Clark – you nailed it. Thank you. Quirkosity is out there, you just have to be open to it. Smiling over your “Thankfully the quirky side of the street tends not to have lines.” That’s so very true. Hope your day is blessed with quirkosity!
Ah, I wish such things happened to me!! The shop one was hilarious! Imagining your mom having the strength to pull out a tap and then the shop owner forgetting to lock up!
Exactly. Roshni, it was quite a day. After we survived the tap and the alarm incidents we went for lunch. We couldn’t stop giggling. People were smiling at us. If they only knew.
I think I know where you were, so very glad that we went the week prior !! I was laughing so hard at the tap incident, your MUm is hilarious ! Thanks for the chuckle !
Yup. That’s exactly where we were. Jane: you were on my mind the whole time. You should have seen the way she hustled me out of the coffee shop. I couldn’t wait to hear what was up. As she usually locks herself in bathrooms I assumed she’d had to seek help but this? Nope. Didn’t even occur to me.
OH MY GOSH! I adore your mom. I can’t believe she managed to remove the entire faucet! Those sinks make me mad. They don’t work most of the time. I think you most definitely have enough material for your book and a sequel Kelly!
Yes, damn taps. I often have to move over to an adjacent one and wave, wave, wave my hands to get it to work. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall watching Mum’s efforts. Mind you, let’s hope there wasn’t a security camera in there …
Of COURSE quirk magnets attract! I read your post and immediately thought, “But I KNOW this person!!” Yes. Most definitely. These are things that totally happen to more of us than care to admit it…
Oh that’s funny, Deborah. I do wish more folks would admit to them. I’d feel a tad, no, a whole lot, more relieved!
Are you kidding? Of course we all do things like that…during my (brief!) stint of working at McDonalds, I once walked into the men’s room, thinking it was the women’s room…
Another time, I was at Grossmont College in San Diego, going to school. Tom Hayden was due to speak that day. (Tom Hayden? Former Yippie? Ex-husband of Jane Fonda?) I was thirsty and I knew there was a soda machine in the Student Government office (you can already see where this one is headed, right?). So I walk into the office and casually ask someone if this Hayden guy is gonna ever show up…and Hayden was standing not six feet from me. Yep. Felt about three inches tall…slunk on out of there in a hurry, I can tell you….
Yes, I do remember Tom Hayden. Oh you’ve got to be kidding. That is SO something that would happen to me. I’m only 5 feet 2 so I tend to feel a mere inch or so at times like this. Oh if only such a thing as a rewind button existed… Mind you, they probably would have to be pretty inexpensive because I’d be bound to continuously break mine …
What a great expression!
Quirk magnet? Aw. Thanks, Nina.
Thank goodness I have other people’s quirks to read about!–I would die of embarrassment if those things happened to me!
Oh, Kathy, I’ve been sharing mere tips of the iceberg in my land of quirkiness. I think I’ve grown immune to it all. My last one? Just on Saturday I was parking with the intent to get groceries. Took a quick look at my phone and then yanked open the door. Car alarm went off. Of course, the battery on my key is dead so I couldn’t turn it off. “Whooga … whooga … whooga …” on and on. Three folks poured out of three different shops. All gesticulating to turn it off with my key. One guy yelled at me to “open the hood.” Stepped out of my car, shut the door and nothing. No sound. All calm. Just TypiKel.
I think that’s why I’m afraid to have a car with an alarm 🙂
Smart, smart woman.
I adore your mother! I can’t wait to read your book about your adventures.
I also love the term “quirk magnets.” What a great way of describing it! For the record, yes, my family is the same way. We always seem to end up in the kind of situations that leave us shaking our heads and saying “these things just don’t HAPPEN to other people!”
Oh how we’d like to meet you, too! Your aunts have had me giggling for quite some time. Here’s to many more inevitable “these things just don’t HAPPEN to others …”
You two definitely win the most hilarious quirk magnets award. Once you get your book published and become celebrities every town will be inviting you to come visit and see what magic er mayhem you might bring. 🙂
Oh now should that happen, Deborah, I would be delighted. Golly. The magic er mayhem potential is mind boggling.
Kudos to the construction worker – a white knight in an orange vest!
What a perfect storm! Many of us may have similar quirk magnet traits – but only you, Kelly, is talented enough to turn those incidents into side-splittingly hysterical reads. Your book is bound to be a huge success – and I want to know how to be first-in-line to buy it!
“A white knight in an orange vest.” Brilliant. Sums him up perfectly, Susan. And thank you for your kind words.I’m inspired to get crackin’! Hope to see you soon. In the meantime, bundle up – saw on Instagram that you’re treated to some pretty cold weather at the moment.
Happily, we are back to summer for a wee bit this weekend! I know you are busy right now Kelly – so no need to participate unless you want to, but I nominated you for a blogger award today. Details are on my blog. Have a fantastic weekend.
I’ll head over there now, Susan. Thank you.
Hee hee! I was shouting “NO! Don’t go into the glass shop!” because I thought in Just TypiKel style you would break stuff. Setting off the alarm was even better!
My mother and I are famous for dribbling our food down the middle of our shirts, manners or no manners. It’s genetic I think. Much like quirk magnetism!
Katy – both my sister and my mum are famous for that as well. Oh and so is my niece. It’s unbelievable. Constantly slopping stuff down their fronts, manners or no manners. I do believe it is genetic. So we really do need to compare family trees and figure out where we are related …
Things like that don’t seem to happen to momma and me, but now my husband and I WOW! Crazy things always tend to happen to the two of us. Did I ever tell you about the time the huge cockatoo landed on top of our truck and refused to leave!
Have you been hauled off to jail yet? Ha ha ha. I’m somewhere in between – definitely not blissfully peaceful, but nothing too quirky. Your book will be brilliant, I’m sure.
Nope – still hanging about on the outside, thankfully! You are blessed to be somewhere in between, Lana. And thank you for your kind words. I’m aiming for readable …
I am pre-ordering your book right here right now! I had my first real laugh of the day reading about Mum pulling the tap off the wall!! Happy 93rd birthday to her – wishing her many more amazing adventures.
And I’d never heard of a quirk magnet before – love it!
I shall pass on your kind words to Mum, Nicki. Don’t you just wish you were a fly on the wall during the tap incident? You should have seen Mum’s face when she emerged. Classic.
Oh dear if you have more awesomely hilarious stories like that you absolutely must write this book!
Aw, thank you, Julie. Life is certainly never dull – especially when I hang out with Mum.
I am giggling my head off imagining you and your jazz hands waving as a greeting for the unsuspecting Milly. I can not wait to read your book. I’m so delighted that you are undertaking this adventure. Way to go!!
Thank you for this, Mo. It was quite a shock just standing there waving my hands with a goofy grin on my face only to be facing a total stranger. She wasn’t capable of masking her shock. Just typiKel. And thank you for the book encouragement. Means the world to me.
Oh, your mom. This cracks me up.
My grandmother had a quick sense of humor even when it was clear she was starting to suffer from dementia. She lived with us for five good years. When she got in my car, she never remembered to buckle her seatbelt. The car would start beeping at her after we drove a few feet, and if she didn’t buckle up, the beeping would accelerate. I used to tell her it was a warning she would be ejected if she didn’t buckle up. She loved that, and I think it took her longer to buckle up as a result. She wanted to see if that would really happen if she hesitated long enough.
I think her reaction to the bathroom tap situation would have been similar.
Oh your grandmother sounds like a gem. Love that she took her time buckling up. Am grinning here. It’s something my mom would do. And I love your warning.
Grace and I tend to find it a lot. When I was a teenager, and I don’t even know if this qualifies, I thought I’d be cute an impress the other teens in our car in a McDonald’s drivethru. I chose to flip a double bird at the Ronald McDonald image on the window. Not until we got our food did I realize that window had a cashier just behind it who probably felt the birds were for her. (And she was cute. Dumb, Eli, dumb.)