Altho not all real life events are absurd in a ; "OMG-I'm-talking-to-a-creepy-guy-who's-standing-next-to-me-at-a-cocktail-party-but-he-calls--my-house-and-he's-on-the-other-end-too!" kinda way. Or any other weird thing you can imagine, or David Lynch can imagine...
But they can be quirky in a way that makes you think: ..."mmkayy...ehh...is this for real?"
Here's what happened to me the other day:
I'm sitting behind my desk, working on some email to order stuff from Japan, when somebody comes in...
I hear the sound of soft shuffling feet and when I look up I see an old man who looks like the way an old man would be depicted in a cartoon:
skinny, crooked, a small tuft of white hair on his primarily bald head, no teeth, and a suit that has seen better days.
He shuffles towards me in what seems like slow-motion with extra vibrato, and when he's standing in front of my desk he slowly raises a trembling hand and points in the general direction of a photograph that hangs in the window.
"Who's that woman?"
Me: "What woman do you mean, sir?"
Him: "That woman, on the painting (for some reason he doesn't understand photography?) in the window."
Me: "Oh, I don't know. I'm sorry. It's a model, you see."
Him: "Maybe you don't understand. That woman in the window display."
Me: "Yes. exactly. She's a model the artist photographed. I have no idea who she is."
He looks at me with the most disappointed look I've ever seen on anybody's face.
The little tuft of white hair slightly flapping in the breeze created by the airconditioner.
Little flecks of dandruff softly blowing off his tweet shoulders.
Then he seems to come to a decision, and with shaky hands he goes through his pockets.
He takes out a small digital camera and blip blip blips through the photographs, with a tremendously serious face.
He then holds the camera in front of me and shows me a close-up of a naked model that features on the very photograph I knew we were talking about.
(the ONLY naked girl in a picture full of people)
With trembling index finger he points at the little screen and says;
"This. This. This girl. Who is this girl??"
His voice is full of determination.
Me: "Yes, that girl. Exactly. I'm very sorry, but I really don't know. She's a model."
He looks at me, his facial expression changes to total defeat.
"I'm very sorry. If you want I can give you the name of the artist, so you c...", I attempt.
He shakes his head with a sad face.
Then he turns around slowly, shuffles towards the door, stops, looks at the screen of his camera one more time with a crestfallen expression, blips it off and puts it in his jacket pocket before walking out....in the direction of the photograph....