Jersey Blogger, Mr. Snitch, laid this one on me. I have been asked to identify five “quirks” or “eccentricities” that I have. I have previously revealed five of my “habits,” but I suppose that this calls for something a bit different from things like teeth clicking and pen flicking. While I like to think that I do not harbor any eccentricities, I suspect if this question were asked of people who know me, it would elicit a rather comprehensive (and possibly unsettling) list.

Let’s see:

I have absolutely no sense of direction. It’s true. I have gone through life not knowing whether I am traveling north, south, east or west. If the sign says “West,” I figure I’m going west. The only time I can ever get a handle on the whole north, south, east and west thing is when I am literally close enough to the ocean to see it. I look at the ocean and know, “that’s East” and the other directions sort of follow from that. Unfortunately on a West Coast Beach, the “that’s East” thing becomes “that’s West.” I cannot process that, and my mind goes into completion Direction Lock.

Here’s the other thing. I know how to get: from my house to Point A and from my house to Point B. However, if you ask me to get from Point A to Point B, instant Direction Lock. On more occasions than I care to admit, I’ve gotten from Point A to Point B by going home first.

Obviously, I get lost a lot.

As a general rule, I will not wait on line for anything for more than five minutes. Perhaps this is a long-lived reaction to having been in the Army, where it seems one has to wait in line to do any damned thing. Wait on a long line to get into a restaurant? Nope. I figure that no food in the world is worth standing on a line for more than five minutes. Of course, waiting in the bar is perfectly fine with me.

I like to show up at airports way, way before my flight is scheduled to leave.. There is nothing more nerve wracking than scrambling through airports and waiting on (yes) lines, all the while having your stomach tie itself in knots as a result of worrying that you’ll miss the damned plane. I prefer to mosey along at a leisurely pace and bring a book to read at the gate.

Here are a few of what some rat finks might call “eccentricities” that I’ve bloviated about previously, some of which may be new to some of you.

I farookin’ HATE clowns.

I don’t like basketball.

I hate seafood.

I’m scared shitless of alligators.

I’m also afraid of crabs.

I’m a hopeless peanut butter junkie.

OK, so I listed more than five, but I sort of cheated by referring to prior posts in which I discussed my eccentricities perfectly normal likes, dislikes and perfectly rational fears..

Because some people get cranky when “tagged,” I’ll just invite anyone who feels like quirk-sharing to play along.