Statistically Incorrect

Finally and sadly an opportunity to use this title i had in my mind for a long time. Things that are happening and impossible to prove trough normal means having the need to turn to statistical analysis. Very empirically, based on memory alone.

I mean, how can you prove that you are being stalked while driving on the streets by a large number of people without tracking devices or other means that could show others what's happening?

In an urban area with 2 million cars, i started to remember license plates numbers that i see in difficult or critical situation on the road. Is that proof enough?

Today i went to Fry's, again, because yesterday i when i been in there i couldn't even concentrate to remember what i had to buy. And i did not drink, eat, smoked or inhaled anything. I mean drugs. But i felt like i was high on something to the point of passing out. I spoke weird things to people. I could not locate what i was looking for before i left the store.

So today i went again to buy a pouch for my new 30 dollars ATT go phone that i bought several weeks ago in the same place. The thing has an 8 GB extension card (room for up to 32) and a decent camera. I mean look at the picture i took on my way back on a van that was smoking badly. I caught him when abruptly changing lanes towards the 205 exit. It drove in front of me for miles until i reached him from behind. Indistinguishable license plate number.

05/01/2013 12:20:32 PM I5 NB, @205 exit

Or these three right in the parking lot at Fry's.

05/01/2013 12:13:18 PM, Fry's parking lot

Did i mention the best sound i ever heard from a player using wav, uncompressed files, better than the CD player itself?

So i took the Wilsonville Rd exit then first left on SW Town Center Lp towards Fry's. Before Town Center Loop (second right) right in the curb i saw this big silver pick-up with license plate 311 GEX in the right lane (i was in the left). While staring at the number i pronounced it in my mind then i said to myself: Oh, geeks, we're in Wilsonville, damn! (i didn't get a brand for the truck but there's no doubt in my mind it was a Ford) and in that moment he passed the line between lanes into my lane about two inches while signalling in the other direction (or maybe not at all) only to make a right on Town Center Loop. I gently pressed the brake, i was near, i was really squeezed between him and the left curb, but nothing happened, then he disappeared and i continued my trip towards Fry's (next right). Not before i could see the guy, a young blonde one, almost with a smile on his face.

Geeks. Can't live with them can't live without. I assume they're really hard working people since they know so many tricks. I mean you can't learn anything if you don't do anything. Working day long until tired then start over. All work no play. Dead serious.

Can't hate them. Always with a sweet smile on their face, even when they screw you. If you are realizing you are being screwed they screw you again so you get confused so you don't know what to complain about or over and over until you get tired. But then they smile and you forget and all you remember is the smile and the polite tone. But if you accept being screwed right from the start, they can even get nice to you, is the most you can get. Got to keep them satisfied. Win something, loose something.

With their synchronized, animatronics-like, computer coordinated game, they're masters of the roads. One or two pops at every corner with a license plate that offends you. If you look at somebody walking on the street, another looks at you back. Then if you feel you don't get enough, you can also read what's written on the bumper sticker or on the window on the car in front of you or on the truck or wherever. If you want some more, you can look at them and see how they always raise their hands to their face or suck from a jug. Always, again and again.

At Fry's, dancing among isles, with a guy throwing really hard stacks of copy machine paper exactly near the place were you're looking for something. Every time one shows from one direction, another shows from the other looking at you. Towards the end of the buying visits, usually babies show up or hear them crying in the other end of the store. (Like at Best Buy earlier, when i was surrounded right before leaving the cell phone department by mothers, fathers, babies and children, while waiting for two guys to find cell phone pouches that have been "moved around on them" in their department.)

Then you're back "home", tired and wishing to forget everything, with your instructions from your newly bought gadget on you hand or checking your email or hearing yet another brain wave synchronized stump or slam, shaking the dust from the walls and gases from inside the walls.

Then reviewing in my head what happened during my trip there, i remembered. I saw that license plate in the exact same place in an exact similar situation at least one more time not long ago. Deja vu.