the road not taken

i have some issues; most of which i am not proud of ...

the scintillating prose to follow was inspired by taking out the garbage yesterday morning...

i have really weird issues about stuff... little rules and guidelines i live and operate by in my daily life. i'm very sure that the mild obsessive/compulsive disorder i have doesn't help things much, but... i have these issues nonetheless.

it occurred to me yesterday morning, as i was getting garbage together to be taken up to the dumpster, just how strange one of these happens to be.

i don't like reaching into things where i can't see my hand, or what it is precisely i'm looking for. my example from yesterday morning was the box that holds the kitchen sized garbage bags. i needed to replace the bag i had taken out. i buy hefty bags, which come in a box.

i know, you're thinking i could just buy a different kind of bag, and then i wouldn't have to worry about it. but see, i can't. i don't like the ruffies bags, which come on a roll, because they are obscenely scented and make me ill to think about. or, i could get the wal*mart brand bags, but, i can't do that either. because, they have to be drawstring bags, and those still come in a similar type box.

plus, since i've no longer been employed by wal*mart, i find it increasingly difficult to go there anymore. the stores are dirty, messy and there is no one to help you with anything on the floor. and, it takes at least 15-20 minutes to check-out because they also have no cashiers, and the lines are forever long.

so, i've moved up and on to shopping at target for most things. they have some way cool shit, and their stores here are almost invariably very well kept and well staffed.

anyway, back to the discussion of my issue.

i hate putting my hand inside that box to reach for a garbage bag i can't see. i pause and i take a deep breath, and i do it as quickly as possible, so my hand is there for only a split second. i do this every time i must pull out a garbage bag, without fail.

now this behavior in itself is a bit odd, but my reason for doing it is downright fucked up.

why am i like this? what trauma have i suffered earlier in life that renders me nearly incapable of pulling garbage bags out of boxes? i'll tell you, but i'm definitely not proud of this either.

i saw the movie flash gordon when i was about 8 years old, and those images have never faded from my mind.

okay, okay... please stop laughing, and i'll explain.

really, you can stop now.

for any of you who have seen that movie, regardless of age, do you remember the scene where flash gordon and prince barin participate in the challenge of putting their hands into the big stump. (tree? i don't remember precisely.) and there is a horrible dangerous scorpion-type monster inside who could strike at them, leave some big green pus-filled raised circle on their wrist and kill them? do you remember the gut-wrenching tension there was in that scene?

that is why i can't put my hands into places i can't see. this also counts for knotted boards, but especially any kind of container i can't see into. i'm afraid i'm going to find something horrible inside that i can't see. and it's going to hurt me.

...all because flash gordon, grooving queen soundtrack and all, has been seared into my brain, almost 20 years ago.

behold the power of celluloid and pop culture. yikes.

Posted by lara at October 27, 2000 12:04 PM