this post was submitted on 03 Sep 2024
975 points (99.2% liked)
Greentext
4464 readers
1260 users here now
This is a place to share greentexts and witness the confounding life of Anon. If you're new to the Greentext community, think of it as a sort of zoo with Anon as the main attraction.
Be warned:
- Anon is often crazy.
- Anon is often depressed.
- Anon frequently shares thoughts that are immature, offensive, or incomprehensible.
If you find yourself getting angry (or god forbid, agreeing) with something Anon has said, you might be doing it wrong.
founded 1 year ago
MODERATORS
you are viewing a single comment's thread
view the rest of the comments
view the rest of the comments
I once run out of toilet paper and the store didn't have any, but in the parking lot I bumped into John Goodman and without a word spoken he handed me over a package of toilet paper. Really nice guy.
I saw John Goodman at a grocery store in Los Angeles yesterday. I told him how cool it was to meet him in person, but I didn’t want to be a douche and bother him and ask him for photos or anything.
He said, “Oh, like you’re doing now?”
I was taken aback, and all I could say was “Huh?” but he kept cutting me off and going “huh? huh? huh?” and closing his hand shut in front of my face. I walked away and continued with my shopping, and I heard him chuckle as I walked off. When I came to pay for my stuff up front I saw him trying to walk out the doors with like fifteen Milky Ways in his hands without paying.
The girl at the counter was very nice about it and professional, and was like “Sir, you need to pay for those first.” At first he kept pretending to be tired and not hear her, but eventually turned back around and brought them to the counter.
When she took one of the bars and started scanning it multiple times, he stopped her and told her to scan them each individually “to prevent any electrical infetterence,” and then turned around and winked at me. I don’t even think that’s a word. After she scanned each bar and put them in a bag and started to say the price, he kept interrupting her by yawning really loudly.
When I was younger, maybe junior high, I got roped into watching my 3 month old niece while my sister got her hair done. So there I am, sitting in the waiting area of a hair salon with my niece, and who walks in but John Goodman!
I was nervous as fuck, and just kept looking at him as he read a magazine and waited, but didn't know what to say. Pretty soon though my niece started crying, and I'm trying to quiet her down because I didn't want her to bother Mr Goodman, but she just wouldn't stop. Pretty soon he gets up and walks over. He started running his hands through her hair and asking what was wrong. I replied that she was probably hungry or something. So, John put down his magazine, picked up my niece and lifted his shirt. He breast fed her right there in the middle of a hair salon. Chill guy, really nice about it.
When I was about seven, I wanted a Shetland pony but my parents were too poor to buy me one. Anyway one day I'm at a pony show, and in comes John Goodman between two horses at a fast trot. He talked with me and my parents about horse husbandry and marriage laws, not once letting go of the horse on either side of him. He was super chill and kept winking at me, and when the horn sounded, he bid us a cordial goodbye and galloped away with his horses on either side, jumping a fence along the way.
Oddly enough I once got hit by a car driven by John Goodman.
We lived in the same neighborhood while I was doing Norm and I never actually saw him but my lady neighbors wouldn't stop yammering about living near John and his red Porsche Carrera. I don't drive. I'm not afraid of cars or anything, I just don't care for 'em. I was walking to grab eggs before the grocery store closed one night -- this was back before everything was open 24/7 -- and I saw a red Carrera coming in the right lane but he had a red light and no turn signal on so I figured I could cross the street at the light no problem. Then I remembered that ol' Pacha himself drove a red Porsche and I thought I should ask for an autograph when he stopped. My son was a huge fan and would have got a kick out of it. There was a problem though. John turned right and barely slowed down before his windshield broke my fall.
He got out and started apologizing and I couldn't believe it was him. Living in the same neighborhood, working in the same circles, attending the same professional events, and I was to meet John after he nearly ran over me. When he got out of the car I was digging through my wallet for something he could sign for my son and he apologized and asked how much it would cost to keep the police out of the whole affair. I said I didn't want any money, just a signed picture or something. He kind of looked at me weird and asked why I wanted his autograph and then it hit me: It wasn't John. It didn't even look like him. Not one day goes by that I don't think about that old man and how much I want to punch him right in the fucking face.