Aug. 22nd, 2007

storytimewithjoe: Joe at the Getty (Default)

Having just crossed the street on this overcast summertime morning, I turned to walk the sidewalk in front of the Howe-Waffle House on the way to work.  One of the more idyllic landmarks of the town, the Howe-Waffle House stands as a tribute to a bygone age of culture, professionalism, and of course – money!  At the end of the sidewalk, a woman dressed in jogging clothes walked my way.  As we neared each other, I saw that she held out her right hand towards me.  And was that… her middle finger?  That looks almost obscene.  “Is her finger in a cast or something causing her to hold it out like that?” I wondered.  Nope.  “Well I’ll be…” I realized.  “She is actually flipping me off!”  Yep.  No doubt about it.  Nobody else was around.  She was giving me the bird. 

 

But WHY?  I don’t know this woman.  I have never seen her before.  She certainly doesn’t know me.  All she sees is a man in glasses, a suit and tie, and a briefcase walking her way.  Ah yes… the wardrobe.  Let’s see.  Could I be…

 

...the high-powered attorney who helped her husband escape alimony payments?

…her ex-husband?

…the landlord who gave her 30 days to pay up or get out?

…the Oppressor man who violated her wombyn-ness?

…the guy who told her “No!”

…the guy who told her “Yes!”

…the boss who fired her for some reason that she finds unacceptable?

 

I couldn’t believe she was actually flipping me off.  I worship in a nature-based religion that respects all life.  I work for a health care agency that sets up and maintain programs to help people with alcohol and drug issues.  I garden.  I cook.  I make pretty things.  Heck, I’m a pretty nice guy.  WTF?  To counter her negativity, as we passed shoulders, I turned slightly and wished her, “Good Morning.”  She walked a little faster and kept on moving.  I laughed.

 

Soon after, as I neared my building, one of the homeless guys who occasionally parks his bike near the main parking garage sat while eating his breakfast.  As I passed by, he smiled, looked up at me, and said, “Good morning.”  I did the same.

 

People… ya just can’t figure them.

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storytimewithjoe: Joe at the Getty (Default)
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