stream of consciousness

Sometimes, technology doesn't like me ... even when Mercury is not in retrograde. 

But, right now, Blogger likes me ok, so I am going to keep writing here while I wait for LinkedIn to stop losing its damn mind.


Yesterday, I walked around the lake.
I usually walk the lake once a week -- whenever I am in a mile deficit because it gets me almost 5 miles. 

This week I walked the lake at least twice.

Usually, I walk with someone, so I am noticing what is going on, but also usually having a long, involved (or several) three to four mile lasting talks.

Yesterday, I should have known it was going to be different when I walked by the young woman on the phone. 

I wish I could remember exactly what she was saying, something about I am not saying you are a bitch, but you are wasting my time making me talk to you like you are a bitch.

It was evocative, in its way, and I was trying to memorize the two lines so I could write it down.  But I was late to meet my walking partner.

Little did I know that our first encounter on the lake would be our neighborhood flasher (walking partner does not like me dubbing him that as he might not be moving into our neighborhood). [Hereafter known as NF].

My friend was waving wildly, even though she hadn't seen me when I was waving at her from across the street.

Turns out she had been scrutinizing NF -- she had seen him once before, downtown with his goods hanging out of his pants. 

When she noted NF, he was walking near a woman, talking and walking fast.  The woman, pushing a stroller, was visibly disturbed, and my friend was trying to figure out how to help her. 

As it happened, she helped by getting NF to pay attention to us.  She had me turn around before she explained any of this and we got his attention.  She asked, "Is he following us?" and I said he wasn't, in an attempt to calm her.

But he was.  

And even though he was short, he caught up to us.  I shooed him away by saying no to whatever he said (after good morning, because there is no need to be impolite). 

He backed off, and I shrugged my shoulders and kept walking.  Later my friend repeated what he had said, I honestly hadn't paid attention to the words.  I knew my role was to reject and shut down.  So, I did it.

Apparently he thought by looking over at him we had indicated a desire or a need for his private parts.  So, being the amiable NF, he offered it directly to us. 

Turns out my rejection was apt. 

He was single minded in his quest, and presumably continued looking for the one (or ones) that had such a need.

As I told my friend, and then her husband when he joined us, sometimes you just have to keep asking until someone says, "YES!" It might not be the one you intended .... you just never know.

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And because I don't want to start another NRU draft file, here is a little piece on First Fridays (which I love but haven't been to since I moved back to Oakland) and whether or not Oakland is about to lose its artistic soul.  You don't really  have to read the article to know what it is about, but it's here if you do want to read it.  Needless to say, I am feeling Anyka's rent pain as I try to find a place I can afford...