|You won’t believe what happened to me on the way home the other night. Now I can’t even go to the local Whole Foods store! I’ve just got back from a workshop for advertising executives, and I arrived home to find I’d run out of milk.
Julie, has been looking after Hannibal, my dachshund, and I knew he wanted a walk with me, so I took him along with me to the store. It was pretty late, and some of the staff were taking in the flower display from the street, where they always look so lovely.
As I was looking at them, and thinking how fresh they were, and how they’d freshen up my apartment, I thought I might buy some. I turned my head at that moment to see Hannibal, my dachshund, peeing on the homeless guy who sometimes sits there.
He looked back, mortified, his legs wet, and a pool of pee spreading over his cardboard sign, which said – ‘I’ll accept anything.’
It’s absurd, but I couldn’t help thinking that was a rather open offer. I said I was sorry, reaching in my purse, and found all I had was plastic, and a few peso coins. He wouldn’t take the plastic, and the pesos were no good to him.
I ended up making my apologies and leaving, hurrying inside the store. I felt awkward, though probably a little better than he did. I must say it was a silly and embarrassing incident, but there it should have rested.
However, fate was not going to be so kind. The following day I had some friends arrive to stay. They are Ukrainian and the wife, bless her, decided I should have borscht for my lunch and cooked some up.
This was clearly well intentioned, but not my favorite form of soup. I’m more of a clam chowder person.
Either way, I dutifully took the borscht she’d made with me to the agency, when I left for work. It turned out we had a business lunch that day, and I didn’t get to eat her soup, which I am sure would have been delightful. Instead it remained in my bag, until I noticed it there on my way home. Thinking I would be a little devious, I decided to toss it out of the car window, and say to my guests how wonderful the soup was, and how grateful I was that she made it.
So, there in the very slow moving traffic I lowered my car window, and was about to pour it into the street, when the traffic came to a complete halt, and I found myself next to a particularly angry looking biker. I gave him a smile, but bikers and crossdressers don’t always mix well.
He looked back with disdain. I though I’d better not de-borscht myself in front of him. I gave him a cheeky smile and a week, and he scowled back at me. I lowered the passenger side window and tossed the borscht from it’s tupperware container.
That was when I heard a shout. It seemed to come from beside the car. I leaned over to the passenger side of the car and looked out on the ground, and there at the foot of a parking meter was the homeless guy, covered in borscht.
He’d moved a few blocks down the street, but it was definitely him. He turned his borscht covered head in my direction and then recognized me, and said ‘You!”. As the traffic moved on he scrambled to his feet, and started chasing after me in the slow-moving traffic. He was bundled up, but hurried along very quickly after me. It was just a little frightening.
I raised the window, but it was quite surprising how quickly this poor fellow could move, sprinting beside the car and banging on the window. All the while he was shouting and making a terrible fuss. Only when I caught the lights just right could I accelerate away fast enough to leave the fellow, with his flapping arms and wailing. I felt terrible for him, of course, but what could I do?
I pressed my patent leather clad high heeled right foot down and left the poor chap in the rear view mirror. In a face-off between the V8 in my Buick and a homeless person, the Buick generally wins.
I puzzled over his turn of speed for a while till I got home. He really was very quick for a homeless guy. Now, those of you who know me know that I am a kindly soul. Of course, I have my peccadillos, but I am generally a simple type. I feel no malice or unkindness to homeless people.
I was thinking this as I walked round my vehicle checking that it hadn’t been damaged by his banging on the window. That was when I noticed the glove caught on the door handle.
No wonder he’d been shouting so loudly as I accelerated away.
Oh, well. What can you do? I hope you’ve enjoyed this little story from the world of FionaDobson. Http://fionadobson.com