Yesterday was one of those days. The sort of days where you have to laugh, or else you cry - or at least stomp around like a pissed off moose. As Tom could tell you, I’m really good at the latter.

I got up early-ish, got dressed and ready and decided to take the beasts to the dog park out in Stern Grove. We don’t take them to the park enough, and this is one I can take them to myself without worrying that they’ll run away on me. The off-leash section of the park is like a bowl, a valley surrounded by hills. That way they can race around and I don’t have to worry that they’ll run in traffic.

I get them all ready to go (a process, let me tell you - what with the muzzle and the leashes and the poop-baggies and the sit! stop pulling! hush your squealing!) and head out to my car which I’d parked one block away on Friday because the only spot on my block was a tiny spot on the wrong side of the street. I’m horrible at parallel parking and I just can’t do it on the left side of the street. So I walk over and I’m unlocking my door and notice, hmm - there seems to be two notes on my window. Odd. I had parked a bit crooked, but I wasn’t in the street and not blocking anyone’s driveway… I thought it might be a recurrence of the homophobic note writer. (While Mel was here visiting I got a note on my window telling me to ‘quit giving my girlfriend ideas’. Heh. That’s me, out to recruit!) I wrestle the dogs into the backseat (after threatening them with death if they don’t quit trying to get in the front seat) and suddenly notice - someone’s hit the front of my car. The drivers’ side front quarter panel is all mooshed in. Swearing, I take the notes off my car. One is from a witness to the collision, one is from the lady who actually hit me. And then I notice - she hit the back quarter panel too. And ripped the shit out of my hubcap, making my tire totally flat. No way I can drive to the dog park. (I’m also hopeless at changing a tire, and it’s a good thing too, because upon examination Tom told me the rear axle is bent).

On the up-side, she had insurance and left me the info. So her insurance company will pay for the repairs. And it was only property damage. She said she was ’swerving to avoid an animal’ which seemed sort of fishy since she hit my car *twice* and someone else’s too. Then, when I went out to take pics of the damage, one of the neighbors came out and was talking to me… this woman said the woman who hit my car told someone else that she’d blacked out while driving. Which makes a lot more sense. Either way, not my fault. But a pain in the ass anyway.

Later in the afternoon I decide to take myself downtown to the Main Library. Going there always puts me in a good mood; I can’t help but think of angels every time I walk in, since it’s the library they used in “City of Angels”. I always glance up to see if I happen to see a bunch of guys in black trench coats looking down. So far? Not so much. I spent about about an hour there, picked out a handful of books and headed home on Muni.

I was sitting on a bench waiting for a bus and reading. My legs were crossed. Suddenly I thought, hmm - one foot feels colder than the other. I must be cutting off my circulation. I straightened my legs and that’s when I saw it. I was wearing two different shoes. Both Birkenstocks, of course… but one clog and one sandal. I have a pile of shoes by the couch and I slipped two on without paying attention. I hoped no one noticed… and then the bus pulled up.

Since it was evening-commute hours the bus was packed. I had to stand, and ended up in front of a young girl. She was looking at the floor, or perhaps studying shoes, as I took my place. She looked for a long moment, then looked up at me. She smiled. I blushed, and smiled back. Busted.

Posted on October 5th, 2005 by Kat
Filed under: General