Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Big mouth



So I went running tonight, with a dog leash tied to a belt loop, and a dog on the other end of the leash. Nice, balmy night -- I assume "balmy" means slight breeze and perfect temperature, and if not, it should. So, we went a little further than usual, down Loma Alta to Lincoln, down Lincoln, up some other block, good brisk pace. Then a rattle-trap minivan zoomed by us in the opposite direction, practically brushing the side of my face. The minivan slammed on the brakes and the driver shouted at me, "Watch where you're going (uh, you something, something).

Well, damn it, I had been watching.

And here's where I always get in trouble. Filled with fresh air and adrenaline, prudent and thoughtful judgement eludes me. Me in my shorts and t-shirt, with the cowardly lion by my side. Come to think of it, it was probably her street, so when I asked whether she wanted the whole fucking street, in all likely hood, she did. We held eyes for a beat, then she sped off and I kept running.

Sometimes it's a good thing not to have men around.

8 comments:

  1. Pasadena Adjacent
    You had been watching, yeah! @#$%^ and**#$% I've had a few run-ins (over) with mountain bikers who come down those goat trails at break neck (mine) speed.

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  2. Regardless of who's in the right, she has the bigger weapon. I don't want to worry about you, so you watch out even if you shouldn't have to, you hear?

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  3. You should run with your horns helmet, braids, and breastplate. That way, you have the bigger weapon.

    I'll make a set for your Norweedic hound.

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  4. That's an excellent idea, Miss H. Then everyone would avoid her.

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  5. I'm careful -- this one just got away from me.

    And Miss H, who said that is not my running costume? (Maybe that's why the minivan was so miffed.)

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  6. Hey Mouth,

    Its girls like you that get guys like me dead! It was in Berkeley, in the late 60s and heading home with my, then, wife and her mother. They were Dutch and the mother spoke no English. I was driving into the midst of a mini-riot being controlled by the Oakland Police department. They generally came to Berkley to work off steam. I was stopped as I crossed an intersection a couple of blocks from the house. Two officer approached me at an intersection They were dressed in the standard riot gear, no badge, sunglasses and a hand on the butt of the weapons -- REAL weapons. One asked me to step outside of the car. I said to the wife and her mother, “Beide sprechen Sie mit mir nur in Deutsch!” Or, Both of you speak to me only in German! I stepped out of the car. The lead officer kept a little space between the two of us and began the interrogation.
    Him: Where are you going?
    Me: Home
    Him: Where do you live?
    Me: Two blocks up there.
    Him: Who are these people with you?
    The good wife: (Yelling out the window) How dare you speak to us like that.
    Me: (Trying the soto voce touch). Sweetheart, Lassen Sie mich damit umgehen, bitte! (Let me handle this, please)
    The good wife: How can you let him speak to you like that. I would rather die than have to go through this.
    Me: (In English). Sweetheart, it’s not you going to die if you continue. It’s ME! BE QUIET!
    I turned back to the officers expecting the full battering ram. Those guys are not subtle.
    One officer looked at me, and then at his partners, and back at me, shook his head, and said, “Go on but don’t stop until you get home.”
    I think he thought I had enough problems.

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  7. In K's case, I'm more concerned with her walkin & talkin gettin herself in trouble.
    We better find you a new job real quick 2 keep you outta mischief.

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  8. See what I mean? Men. (but nice ones.)

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