Thank you for ruining the word "hobby" for me

As you may know I am working on meeting new people and making new friends. Last night I tried something new and attended a crocheting group at my local craft store. My hope was that there would be at least one person there I could chat with. That was my simple hope. My simple, is-that-really-asking-so-much hope.

For the first half hour of the "group" I was the only one there. I tried to crochet in a friendly looking manner thinking maybe that would lure more people in. When that didn't work I crocheted sullenly. That did the trick. Moments after switching over to sullen mode I was joined by an old lady who smelled of stale Newport cigarettes.

The old lady had a crochet project with her but she didn't work on it very much. Mostly she just talked about her various medical ailments and forced me to look at her scars. You've got to give it up for medical science. It allows someone who's had two strokes, an aneurysm and a fall down two flights of stairs to still be up and waking around and scaring the bejesus out of random strangers.

The defining moment of the evening came when the old lady started to tell me about one of her surgeries. She told me "They split me open from my boobs to my hobby room!"

And when she said "hobby room" she pointed to her crotch.

Then it was time for me to leave.

So last night was a bit of a bust. I didn't meet any new friends and now I can't hear the word "hobby" without a little piece of my soul dying.

One year ago today Joseph got in touch with his past lives.
Two years ago today I was forced to do yet another meme.