Last weekend Brad was here, as he is most weekends. On Saturday morning, he grabbed his keyless entry remote beeper thing for his car and said he needed to go get something. He went outside, but quickly came back in, saying that the battery in the thing was dead, and could I go grab the other one (he'd given me the spare key with beepy-entry button thing just in case). So I went upstairs to retrieve the replacement and he went back outside to wait.
When I came back down, I stood in the living room window and beeped the car to let him know I was unlocking the doors. When he didn't appear, I beeped it again. Still nothing. I beeped several times waiting for him to walk toward the car and notice it was unlocked so he could get whatever it was he needed. He didn't come.
I walked over to the dining room window to look for him and he was standing with the old remote in pieces in his hands. I knocked on the window and beeped the car several more times to let him know I had the new replacement remote thing. He looked at me with wide eyes and held up the pieces in his hands, showing me that the battery was out of the remote, and how the heck did it keep beeping!! I lifted my hand with the remote and beeped the car again. He looked down bewildered at the disassembled remote and looked back up at me and shrugged his shoulders, baffled. I again, lifted the replacement remote and beeped the car. When he saw what I had in my hand he laughed, threw the old remote in the trash and walked toward his car. When he came back in the house, he was laughing and told me what he'd been thinking.
"When I took the remote apart, as soon as I touched the metal part where the battery goes, it beeped! I thought I had done it with the electricity in my hand. And then it started freaking out! Locking and unlocking and beeping over and over again! It was crazy!!"
"Crazy," I said. "Or it was me."
Yesterday, Brad and I went for a bike ride down at Point Defiance Park. We were nearing the end of our ride, and heading up a slight hill when he got a little ways ahead of me. His bike only has a single gear, so he tends to go further with each push of the pedals. I was about 20 or so feet behind him, when a biker passed me on my left. He was going quite a bit faster than I was. As the biker got closer and closer to Brad, Brad started to speed up to stay in front of him. The faster the biker went, the harder Brad pedaled to stay in front. I knew that he thought the other biker was me, so I waited a few minutes, watching. Waiting until Brad looked over his shoulder and saw that he was racing a stranger. Finally, as they were reaching the top of the little hill (which was about 200 yards from me), I yelled out Brad's name. (I didn't want to be left so far behind!) That's when Brad looked over his shoulder and saw that it wasn't me he was racing with. He said something to the other biker, and they both laughed as Brad turned around to wait for me.
When I'd caught up, Brad laughed and said, "I thought that was you!" I told him I knew that. And he said, "I couldn't figure out what had gotten into you! Like a sudden burst of crazy energy!"
He told me that he'd told the other biker that he thought that guy was me, and the other biker said he could tell, that he could see it on Brad's face like, "She won't beat me! She won't beat me!"