Thursday, November 30, 2006


Oh, you'll see

We'll get to my gender and race bending daydreams later.

First, it's going to be colder than a witch's tit on Sat. for my autocross. The definition of "cold" is high of 48 and a low of 29, so almost a nice autumn day for some people.

Secondly, check this shit out:
We live in the ghetto. The sewage treatment plant is visible from our backyard. It occasionally smells horrendous but thankfully never inside the house. Our neighbors vary from WASP college students, international students, other college age people and a sprinkling of white trash because this is South Kakalakie after all.

I don't want to label, but this lady uses a rolling backpack (okay for stewardesses and travellers, not okay for college students regardless of age) and is obese if not a couple adverbs above obese. So label her at your discretion.

Never shared this with you but this was our first encounter with her. Let's call her (I really want to call her RollerPig ala There's Something About Mary, but that is slightly too mean, let's use it anyway) RollerPig. So J is waiting on the CATbus to get a ride to school, I think to go workout and meet me there, and RollerPig is either waiting on the bus or is just walking past. She stops and asks J for some help. Very wary, J asks what she needs. She needed someone to tie her shoes. Tie her shoes. Something that most people can do from Kindergarten on (I taught myself how, I couldn't figure out that bunny going around the tree bullshit so I decided that if I just made two loops that I could successfully tie those two loops together and tie my shoes! Ta-da!) but in this case it was not so much a knowledge barrier as it was a "I'm too fat and old to tie my shoes" type of thing. So J begrudgingly bends down and double knots this woman's shoes. How does she normally tie her shoes? Where is her designated shoe tier? All questions that popped into J's head while she was tieing RollerPig's shoelaces.

RollerPig Episode 2:
I'm leaving to go out to the Research Park for a mini-conference (faculty from around the Carolinas talking about their research and free continental breakfast and boxed lunch) when I get to the Stop sign by our apt. I look right and then left like a good "driving on the right side of the road"-er (on yet another side note, I read an editorial in Car & Driver that explained why we drive on the right and the UK and its colonies drive on the left and how driving on the left is actually more natural or something, doubt I can find a copy of that online but I'll check) and then see RollerPig with her arm up like I'm a fucking taxi. Ugh, this is not going to go well, I think to myself.
I stop (like a sucker) and ask WTF, mate?
Are you going near campus?
(Not really, but it isn't far out of my way) Yes.
Could you give me a ride?
Ugh, sure, hop in.
So she hops in and Tercel literally tips over to the right.
Where are you headed?
You can drop me off in front of Sikes.
RollerPig: I wanted to catch the 7 am bus but overslept and now the 7:30 bus is late.
That sucks.
She asks where I work. I tell her.
She says that she has Shakespeare.
I ask no questions and just want her out of my car.
I slow down a little bit and turn my music down a bit, but she invited herself into my car and so I'm unwilling to go completely out of my way to make Tercel inviting.
In her defense, we do pass the CATbus that she was supposed to be on and it was a good 15 minutes late.
We get to Sikes and I stop and she says thanks. She struggles to get out. I don't know if her rolley backpack got in the way or she really is that fat, but I was concerned that a healthy push would be needed. Alas, it was not and I'm not complaining.

I apologized to Tercel and went on my way to find out that, once again, Aramark's definition of "continental breakfast" includes cheese danish, delicious blueberry muffins, chocolate glazed and glazed donuts, a fruit tray with pineapple, cantaloupe, honeydew, and grapes, coffee and orange juice and NO FUCKING BAGELS! All I really want ever for breakfast is a bagel and some cream cheese. The danish was good and the muffins were dynamite, but nothing can take the place of my beloved bagel.

I think I broke even on giving her a ride, broke even karma-wise. It was nice that I gave her a lift, but this acid-tongued post has cancelled out all good energy.

Incidentally, she was at the bus stop as I came to school today. I did not look in her direction.


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