But at least my biceps look amazing.

Everyone has irrational fears and hatreds. For some, it's midgets. For others, it's Wayne Newton. (And yes, I actually know people with these fears.) For me, it's grown-ass adults in full costume.

I know I've discussed it before, but the notion of adults in costumes -- especially ones that require some sort of face mask -- puts me VERY ill at-ease. I can remember back to going on a vacation to Disneyworld (Land? Whichever one's in Florida. Fuck it, I'm too lazy to open another tab and Google it.) and being very uncomfortable around all of the characters. You can totally see it in the pictures my parents took -- I am not happy, pleased, amused, or filled with joy and wonder.

Adults in costume are just damn weird, and even as a child I knew it.

This isn't even about furries. Dear holy Christ, don't get me on that topic. I can't even bend the logic of my brain around that one, and it encompasses everything I've ever found weird about adults in costume and then adds sex and rubbing and...no. No, no, no. I'm sooo not going on that one. But those people are fucking weird, man. WEIRD. And now that I've mentioned it, I'm sure some fucked-up Google search is going to land those people here too, along with all the usual run-of-the-mill self-help-searching freaks that wind up here looking all bewildered while diddling themselves and wondering what the hell I'm talking about.

Anyway. I had a point here.

So I get really ambitious today and decide to venture to Sam's Club. The thing I've noticed about Sam's Club, particularly in the summer, is that they always have someone hocking something out in the parking lot. Today they featured a Port-A-Pit barbecue in the parking lot, with one employee out soliciting new business.

Dressed as a chicken.

Now, a normal, rational human being would be able to just continue walking past such a person. A normal, rational person would maybe smile politely, maybe with a little bit of sympathy since it was like, 80 degrees out. A normal, rational person would not be shitting their pants over the mere sight of this guy, and a normal, rational person definitely would not do what I did.

Rather than just be a big girl about the whole thing, I wound up walking more or less the entire perimeter of the parking lot, in 80+ degree weather, lugging a big-ass purse and 25 lbs. of child and car seat, all so I wouldn't have to go anywhere near the Chicken Guy. And when it came time to leave? I did it again. I must've walked a good half mile, all in the name of avoiding the creepiness.

And the cart boys stared at me the entire time. I know they were mocking me, but you know what, they had carts to protect them from the Chicken Guy. Get a good amount of force behind a cart -- a Sam's Club cart, no less -- and you could probably land him in a coma. But I had nothing but my child, and contrary to popular thought, I will not physically use my child as a defense against a grown man in a chicken costume. I'm such a crazy, unconventional parent, I know.

You know, I really don't know why people look at me like I'm crazy. Just because I sit in my house all day plotting my mode of attack on Creepy Cat Guy, basking in my god complex I get from giving stuff away on Freecycle, and going to Sam's Club to walk around the parking lot like a looney trying to avoid some guy dressed like a chicken. I'm just a normal girl.

I'm just like you.