Pixie Dust

So there I was, on the first of two days away from the office, thinking how nice it would be to have two normal, ordinary, no weirdness days in my life. Last night, to the veggie juice blend I pureed beets. A lot of beets. I am on a quest to find the perfect vegetables to drink. Turns out that spinach is hard to juice, and beets stain your hands when you peel them.
Back to today.
Sitting next to someone who was re-doing the course (they call it "guaranteed learning": you can do a second round for free if you didn't get it in the first go-round), we were handing out papers, and the convesation from that point went like this:
Oh my God, what happened?
What?
Your hands, they're all bloody.
Beets.
What?
Juice.
What?
Beet Juice.
What about beet juice?
The beet juice... Turned... My hands... Red.
If you say so.

He looked at me sideways the rest of the class. Like I had murdered my co-workers prior to attending class, and had made up some weird story to cover the red stains on my hands. I thought about saying it twice, to guarantee that he got it, but I didn't want to scare him. So I just rubbed my hands and murmured "Out damn'd spot, out I say!". Yeah, that kinda freaked him out too, but sadly not because he got it. Sigh. Good class, though!