Last night as I was driving home through our neighborhood, windows wide open, enjoying the great weather, I noticed some joggers on the road ahead. It's been documented how I get excited seeing joggers in the distance, so I was looking forward to the encounter.
As I got closer I noticed that there were 4 joggers, 2 men and 2 women. I also noticed 2 things about them; they weren't looking like they were going to get out of the street and the men were on the inside. Both things were a concern.
When I was little I would take walks with my Grandmother and I can't count the times she would tell me how a good man, a gentleman, would never let his woman walk on the outside of the street. She said it was a safety thing and that in her day a woman walking on the outside *then she would whisper* looked cheap. (That still cracks me up.) So when you walk with me, don't freak when I change sides to keep you on the inside. I'm well trained.
Anyway, as I got closer I saw that these joggers were not going to get out of the street. I started slowing down, almost stopping because they just didn't move over. As they got near to me the woman closest started yelling at me and waving her arms like I was doing something horrible by driving in the street. She was really going off about me driving where they were running. ?????
At first I was annoyed, but as the absurdity of the scene registered in my brain my true nature took over quickly. So I started waving my arms like a freak and screaming in my best pseudo Italian dialect back at her. My windows being all wide open made it easy for her to get the whole gist of whatever it was I was actually saying.
Now, I don't know any Italian at all. Only what I've learned from my Dean Martin cd's, but I put on a good show. I screamed and yelled in some type of language, waving my arms, giving her the old thumbnail off the front teeth sign and the slapping the arm, up yours thing. It was really fun. I know I was speaking gibberish but in my mind I was saying "Where do you expect me to drive dumb-ass? There's a nice big juicy sidewalk to your left there and you are in my street. What is this, trade sidewalk/street with the pedestrians’ day? Go trip over some roadkill!"
I'm not sure what she expected of me. Maybe when I see joggers in the road I'm supposed to get onto the sidewalk? I don't think the walkers would appreciate that very much, not to mention the kids playing there.
As I got going again and looked in the rearview mirror I saw she was still going off, flapping her gums at one of the guys as they kept going. I felt sorry for that guy. He was in for a nice evening with Ms. Freak. I, on the other hand, well let’s just say I thoroughly enjoyed the encounter and I was insufferably pleased with myself all evening.
Good weather makes for good times.
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