Three Parts Testosterone
Posted by Phil Aaronson at 6:15 AM
Part 1. I could hear the pickup coming up behind me. At the last second they swerved close and the passenger leaned out and howled in my ear. He had some kind of interesting tattoo on his shoulder. Flames? They were laughing. I think they were hoping to see me jump, but this same crap happens too often. They passed. I waved, like I always do. Driver and howler flipped me the bird as they receded in the distance. I returned the gesture. Joy.
Part 2. I glanced at the clock, 3:20 am. The kids are out again, their voices woke me. We've had a pretty good relationship so far. The "kids" are college students, mostly local, including the son of my neighbor. They like to hang out in front of my, and my neighbor's house. I don't mind them talking, there's not that many places for them to go. But when they start to get too rowdy I ask them to cool it. And they will. Like I said, they're good kids. This time it was a couple empty bottles hitting the street that got me moving. And for the first time the neighbor's son is looking right back at me defiantly. He tells me to stop bitching from the window. More joy. Looks like our relationship may be moving to a new level. The empties though, my guess: he's had one to many. I tell him we'll talk about it in the morning.
The next morning he's apologetic. We shake hands. The guess was right, he had been drinking. It was a good thing I didn't run out there and thump my chest. It would have escalated things. And note to self, the kids are drinking openly now. Before they take off, I need to check if anyone might try to drive home drunk.
Part 3. I was coming down the narrow bike path from Ralston St. to Canada right near Hwy 92 and 280. In that direction its a downhill screamer most of the way. There's a good hump to go over that gives you that funky zero-g feeling in your stomach. Like a roller-coaster ride. Its fun. But I slowed down a bit, you can't see if anyone is coming up the other side. Whipped over the hump, unloaded my stomach contents just as another rider comes screaming past me on the left on the edge of the pavement. In an instant he's past, and this does make me jump. I wonder what this guy is like behind the wheel?
Part 2. I glanced at the clock, 3:20 am. The kids are out again, their voices woke me. We've had a pretty good relationship so far. The "kids" are college students, mostly local, including the son of my neighbor. They like to hang out in front of my, and my neighbor's house. I don't mind them talking, there's not that many places for them to go. But when they start to get too rowdy I ask them to cool it. And they will. Like I said, they're good kids. This time it was a couple empty bottles hitting the street that got me moving. And for the first time the neighbor's son is looking right back at me defiantly. He tells me to stop bitching from the window. More joy. Looks like our relationship may be moving to a new level. The empties though, my guess: he's had one to many. I tell him we'll talk about it in the morning.
The next morning he's apologetic. We shake hands. The guess was right, he had been drinking. It was a good thing I didn't run out there and thump my chest. It would have escalated things. And note to self, the kids are drinking openly now. Before they take off, I need to check if anyone might try to drive home drunk.
Part 3. I was coming down the narrow bike path from Ralston St. to Canada right near Hwy 92 and 280. In that direction its a downhill screamer most of the way. There's a good hump to go over that gives you that funky zero-g feeling in your stomach. Like a roller-coaster ride. Its fun. But I slowed down a bit, you can't see if anyone is coming up the other side. Whipped over the hump, unloaded my stomach contents just as another rider comes screaming past me on the left on the edge of the pavement. In an instant he's past, and this does make me jump. I wonder what this guy is like behind the wheel?
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