Monday, April 03, 2006
My Week in a Million Little Pieces
My time without the 'Net has been a rough one, but I’ve perservered. It helped me reaize two things. One, my life is not that exciting. And two, to make things interesting, this post will have to be 'Freyed.' Yep, I'm going to embellish a little bit ... I doubt it'll get me on Oprah, but who knows. I've also included a song appropriate for each day. So here's a wrapup of the past week.
Friday, March 24. Around 8:40 a.m. (My birthday)
('Black Cop' by KRS One.)
I’m driving to work on my normal route, ‘Amerie’ cd blasting, when I see those old familiar red and blue lights sound behind me. I pull to the side, to let the cop pass me and go after who he’s really searching for. To my surprise, he pulls up behind me. I'm pissed. What the hell did I do? I wasn’t going that fast. The cop comes up to me (a brotha, I might add) to tell me I was going 30 in a 15. Ok, so I was near a school with the speed limit posted in flashing lights. Were there any kids in the street? Was anyone hurt or injured? I give him my license and he disappears. I know he’ll realize realize today is my birthday and set me free.
He returns to my car, ticket in hand. “Ma’am, sign here.”
'Black coppppppp, Black cop Black cop Black copppppp'
I snatch the pen and sign my name. “You could at least say happy birthday to me.”
He doesn’t crack a smile. “Happy birthday.”
I look at the ticket and see that it is for $260. Happy birthday to me.
Monday, March 27. Around 8:40 a.m.
('Gimme All Your Lovin' Or I Will Kill U' by Macy Gray)
I’m driving to work on my normal route. Carefully now, very slowly. I’m creeping past the school at my slowest speed when I see the familiar lights flash behind me. Not again. This can’t be happening twice. By the time BlackCop pulls up to my car, I'm crying.
He smiles. “Didn’t I stop you the other day?”
I wipe my eyes. “I slowed down! I know I did.”
“It’s cool. I’ll just write you a warning.”
He goes to his patrol car and I try to compose myself. Why didn’t I try this method Friday? Who knew tears could turn a cold cop into a Good Samaritan? I wonder what some feminine wiles will do. I apply my lipstick and run my fingers through my hair.When he returns, I’m all smiles. He is not cute -- beer belly, yellow teeth, flaring nostrils. But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
He hands me a slip of paper. “That should do it.”
“Great,” I say, doing my best impersonation of a white-girl hair flip that I can muster. “I really appreciate this.”
“It’s no problem. And just to let you know, I won’t be here at all next week.”
He starts to walk off, but I call after him. “Mr. Officer ….”
He returns with a puzzled look on his face. “Yes?”
I adjust my posture, so he can see the bit of cleavage that the raisins have to offer. “What are we going to do about my other ticket?”
“You can either pay it or come to court.”
“I know but ..” I lean further outward. “Isn’t there something you can do?”
The song stops playing in my head and I slump in my seat. “Ohwellhaveaniceday,” I mumble as I speed off. Luckily, I didn’t get a ticket that time.
Wednesday, March 29. Around 1:15 p.m.
('Gypsy Woman' by Crystal Waters)
I’m at a light, grooving to Amerie once again, when I notice a homeless woman standing at the intersection. She’s holding a sign that says, ‘Greatful for anything.’ That’s not a typo. She said ‘greatful.’ Obviously she went to school long before the No Child Left Behind initiative, because not only is this chick left behind, she’s also left on the street to peddle for her wares. I can’t let this one go.
I signal for her to come over and she dodges through traffic, a happy smile on her face.
“You know that’s wrong, right?”
She looks confused. “What do you mean?”
“The sign. Grateful is spelled wrong.”
“It’s alright. I’ve got something for you.”
She puts the sign to the side and extends her hand. I open my wallet, pull out a receipt and jot 'Grateful' along the back. I hand it to her. "Now people will respect you more."
“Err, thanks. But don’t you have any money?”
A few cars honk behind me. “Sorry, but I've got to get back to work. With gas prices being what they are, I can't throw away money like that. But I'm sure you'll attract more attention if you fix that sign."
I drive off and I hear a series of expletives screamed behind me. Sigh. Not only did that woman not know how to spell 'grateful', but she didn't know the meaning of the word.
Friday, March 31. Lunchtime.
('No Scrubs' by TLC)
I dropped off some clothes at the Salvation Army and I'm looking through their books section. An older male worker is following me through the aisles and I pretend not to notice. Finally, he jumps in front of me as I'm considering buying a used copy of 'Waiting to Exhale'.
Him: "So you like to read?"
Him: "Me too. I'm always reading books and stuff."
Me: "Is that right?"
Him: "Yep. Right now I'm reading a book called 'Windows 2000.' It's real good."
I want to tell him that a manual is not the same thing as a book, but I don't want to continue the conversation. I go to another aisle and he follows me. Great, I think. Where is my fake wedding ring when I need it?
Him: "Maybe we could go out to dinner and talk about books and stuff."
Me: "I don't think that's a good idea."
Him: "Why not?"
I think for a minute. Would it be wrong to tell him that he is old enough to have played stickball in the streets with my grandfather when he was a boy? Or that when I say I want a man who has overcome obstacles, I don't mean slavery?
Him: "Is it my age? Don't worry about that. I go out with gals your age all the time."
Me: (wincing at the word 'gals') "Sorry, but I'm not interested."
Him: "Well, you're missing out. I had my last girlfriend screaming my name all the time."
Me: "Really? Your name's Adam, right?"
Him: "No, it's Herbert. Why do you ask?"
Me: "No reason. I bettter get going. It was nice meeting you."
Him: "You have a nice day."
Me: "You do the same. Sir."
So that about sums up what I've been doing for the past week or so. The 'Net is up and running at my new place, so I'll be back to post soon. Until next time .....