Friday night, I was involved in a bike messenger bike race. Of course, I didn't ride, because of my fucked up knee. (I have to put that in, because strangely, even with the scar and the walker, people did ask.)
I was in co-charge of one of the stops. My friend Joel and I had to sit in front of a coffee shop. While we were busy with the bikers, I did try to get a person's attention that worked there. She said through the glass that she couldn't hear me, and walked away. I even showed her my walker. It didn't work. Yes, I know that in coffee shops you have to go to the counter to get your shit. And I know that there is no waitstaff. However, I also know that if she had made the choice to help me a bit, I would have tipped her big time. When I waited tables and other various jobs of the like, I was there to make money. I didn't care so much about hanging out and chatting it up with the people I worked with.
Case in point, at the nudie bars some waitstaff didn't want to wait on some of the guys in there because they were perverts. I, on the other hand, thought they all sucked as humans equally, therefore, money was money, and I would take it all. So, this girl, at the coffee shop, was selective about making her cash. And knowing what I know, I'm better off not having her make my coffee anyway. Lazy making money equals lazy about the latte. Just a point to remember, I give you that one for free.
To continue: When the bike messengers made it to our shop, they had to dismount, lock up their bikes, and while Joel stamped them, I took and article of their clothing, and gave them a pair of silly underwear to wear - that they HAD to wear.
Now, most people were very cool about it, and even thought it was a bit funny. And most people were smart about it, giving up a sock, a sweat stinky sock. Quit a few seem concerned about getting their possessions back. As though Joel and I had some secret fetish for stinky, sweaty items of clothing. Maybe Joel and I just looked the type. Hard to call that one. Of course, he and I assured them that they would all get their items back at the end of the race.
The whole event was being filled for a public television show. Which I think is great. My friend Patrick, who put on the whole thing, is very proud of his work. Most of the bike messengers are a bit of a healthy, strange cult. And by proxy of being healthy, they help the world by delivering packages for businesses on their bikes. Fast, secure, cheap, environmental protection. It's all very cool. I, on the other hand, smoked and drank coffee through the whole race. However, I did buy new five pound arm weights at the store yesterday, so change may be possible.
One of my Physical Therapists from the pool therapy I'm involved in, took me up on my invitation and joined up. I really like Jenni, so much. She's a bit more conservative than I am, (shocker), but she doesn't get mad at me for saying the word fuck or smoking...she's very cool. She had wine and goofed with us on the bikers. I am hoping to add her to my friend list. She may come to find out that I'm a lot more conservative than most people believe on certain points. When it was time to go, I offered her a ride to her car. At first she declined, maybe because that might cross the patient/therapist line, or maybe she hadn't made up her mind if we were too weird or not. But, I didn't want her walking alone in the dark to her car. She relented, and we safely dropped her off, unharmed.
She was going to a spa on Saturday. She deserves it. Physical Therapists not only have to help you get your body back into gear, but they have to listen to your shit as well. That's a lot to ask for in a person for a paycheck. I wouldn't want to do it. I'm just the patient, and I don't want to do it.
Now, Joel and I did have a couple of jerks. One that sticks in my head the most, was this man on a two seater bike, with his nine year old daughter. When they got to our stop, he didn't really want to lock up his bike, but he did it. Then when we said that they needed to give up an article of clothing, he insulted Joel and I, by trying to hand us a binder clip. Now, Patrick, the boss of the race, had been very specific about the rules and not to let people bend them. So, I said that wouldn't do. The man, right of the bat, turned straight up hardass jerk on me. Arguing that I should let him bend the rules. I told him that I couldn't do that, rules are rules. Then he called me stubborn. I told him that these weren't my personal rules, and by entering the race, everyone signed up for the same rules, and I was making everyone do the same thing. It was not as personal as he was trying to make it.
So, he tried to hand me a bag that he kept his rain gear in. I handed it back to him, explaining that it had to be something that you actually wear, not something that you keep the stuff you wear in.
Jesus, did he argue. He was so angry, in front of his kid. Now, Patrick had told me that I wasn't allowed to say anything to anyone about what item of clothing that they were to give up, but I did bend the rules a little bit for this man and his kid, hoping for the child's sake to end the embarrassing display that her father was showing. I told him that some people gave up a sock.
WELL, he wasn't going to do that!!!! And this was STUPID!!! And he and his daughter weren't in it to win ANYWAY!!!! Why couldn't I just stamp his paper?!? NEVERMIND!!! THEY DIDN'T NEED THE STAMP ANYWAY!!!!
AND...I SHOULD CUT HIM SOME SLACK BECAUSE HE WAS DOING THIS WITH HIS NINE YEAR OLD DAUGHTER!!!!!!
I replied that if they might win, then it would be by cheating, and rules are rules, and I didn't want to argue about it. He called me stupid again, and the race stupid again. I said that he didn't have to enter it, if it was so stupid. He had made that choice, not me.
The little girl offered one of her gloves, and her dad yelled at her, that she wasn't going to give up any clothes, because that was soooo stupid. Pretty bad, when your own child even tries to smooth it over for you.
And they unlocked their bike and took off.
My thoughts were:
I have a small child, and I wouldn't have necessarily entered a race for growups, that went through the middle of downtown, during busy rush hour traffic.
Also, if for some ungodly reason, I had made that crazy decision to put me and my child in harm's way, I wouldn't teach my child to win by cheating. My child is already a cool, badass kid. I would have stood there at the stop with him, knowing that we probably had a slim chance in hell of winning, but we would complete the festivities in our own good time, try our fucking best, and said, "What should we give up?!? A sock? Underwear? Yours or mine? Your call, little man. "
I was very angry for a bit of time, at this man. Isn't just like a white, redneck man to cheat his way through something. Yes, I did think that. And with his girl, as if she's not going to have a hard enough time in life, being a girl in this world. I hoped that she didn't was maybe from a divorced family and didn't have to live with the overbearing son of a @##$!! all the time.
Great Parenting Job, Jack Ass!!!!
As a woman, a parent, and a sacred rule keeper, I was highly offended. And what's worse, is I'm still spending time on it. Oh, the humanity of it all.
And, we did have one other angry man. He didn't want to give up and article of clothing either. He tried to threaten us a bit in his voice by telling Joel and I how much he'd love to just give us his underwear. I told him, Okay, Do It. I don't care.
He touched his pants, and then gave up a sock. He didn't really have the balls. He made sure that we knew just how stinky his sock was. I replied, he wasn't the first stinky sock, and I would just put it with the others. No big deal to me. Inside, I smiled a bit. I knew, he recognized just how ordinary he was, despite his bravado.
Later, at the bar where everyone met for drinks and awards, he would be the man talking about nudie bars. Making the comparisons between Dallas, Austin, and Houston. I could have been mean to him, probably even made him cry, but I didn't. He just do it to himself without my interference. It takes a ton of work to be so ordinary. Just because you can do something, doesn't always mean you should. And he would have tried to fight me anyway. And even though I do have amazing upper body strength, having your butt kicked by a girl with a walker, well, that might have just pushed him over the deep end. I don't want that kind of blood on my hands.
The night ended with Joel and I eating and chatting. I told Joel a few secrets as he's in that type of friend category now. He bought my dinner as well. Maybe, he didn't think that I noticed, but I did. And that was cool. Joel is going to be famous one day. I'm lucky to know him before that shit hits the fan. He's a film maker, of the rare breed, that actually has some incite and talent with it. He also, is very careful when he speaks. When he says something, he has actually processed it through his mind before letting it out of his mouth. A mastery of sorts that I am severely lacking. One has to wonder how he tolerates the likes of me.
Note, to hook Joel up with other smart friends to build better world.
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