Public Enema Number Two

Okay, first off, I apologize for that title. You can take it as a warning, since this post is only going to go downhill from there. Last night at work, one of our little old guests got really stopped up and sick. I was going to have to walk to the grocery store nearby to purchase said product and I was trying to figure out where the most prominent place to wear my badge would be so that the checkers would know it wasn't for me. I guess it's lucky I ended the tiny crush I had on that one checker...or rather, Boy ended it for me when he told me he once witnessed this checker chasing a cat with apparent intent to harm. I don't really like cats. I only liked this guy because he seemed like someone who never got angry. Anyway, I never ended up having to go to the store, thank goodness, but all night long it made me think about something...

Does it ever seem to anyone else like life is just deliberately cruel sometimes? I'm not talking tragedy here. I can understand how we learn and grow from life's hardships. I'm talking about random, senseless cruelty...like an old man with embarrassing bowel troubles needing to ask a young girl for help...or like the time when Twin and I were innocently sitting outside our building and an old professor-ly looking fellow came up to us and said, "They've got some nice antiques in that window", and proceeded to expose us to umm...his antique. I mean...Come on. What purpose do those things serve? It seems to me like they have no other design than to humiliate or degrade. I don't know. Maybe it's only that I can't see the whole picture. Maybe God wanted me to show that old man that I cared (I'm speaking about the first one--the stopped up one--of course). Maybe the policeman who responded to Twin and my frantic call about Professor Pervert just needed a good belly laugh. Maybe it's just that we live in a fallen world.