“A Christmas Story” comes early

two-thirty in the morning
and my gas tank will be empty soon
neon sign on the horizon
rubbing elbows with the moon
— ani

Is that all you got, kid? Seriously?

I’m running on the trail along the bay. I’m on a sidewalk stretch that parallels the shoreline road, so cars are about 6 inches from me. Thank God nobody texts while driving.

It’s a chilly day by South Tejas standards. A cold front has just moved through, and I’m enjoying a stiff north wind at my back. Life is good. And then.

F*** YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I look up to see a kid, maybe 16, hanging out the back passenger seat of a small car. He has timed things so that he’s screaming at me at exactly the moment the car passes, a couple of feet away.

Two things come to mind: Dang, my knee hurts. And, am I supposed to be impressed?

Kid, I’ve been running since your parents were your age. I’ve been pelted repeatedly by grapefruits by a guy with a major-league arm. I’ve been nailed by eggs at 40 mph. I’ve been the victim of a perfectly timed water balloon. I’ve jumped fences to sprint through backyards at 2 a.m. to elude drunk rednecks. I’ve stared down pit bulls. I once thought I was a goner when a low-rider Cadillac pulled up at midnight in a deserted downtown and rolled along next to me at 6 mph. Random runner killed in drive-by shooting. And then … they drove off. Scared? I was peeing. Scared by you yelling at me? Yawn.

What does that even mean? “F*** you?” What sentiment are you trying to express? That phrase makes no sense. Possibly “Go f*** yourself” would be more functionally accurate, but I suppose it’s too many syllables for use at high speeds. I always liked F*** F*** F***ity F*** because it has a lot of alliteration and is fun to say on deadline, but I guess it’s not threatening enough for your particular purposes.

Haven’t you been reading the Miami Dolphins stories? It’s currently out of vogue to threaten people in this manner. You can expect an NFL investigation in the coming days, mister.

Oh, well. You’ll be disheartened to know that it didn’t have much of an effect. I laughed about it and felt a moment of zen. A feeling for a brief moment that I’m actually alive. I exist. Someone noticed my occupancy on the globe. I guess that’s all you can hope for these days.

Sorry, kid. I wasn’t impressed. Next time, maybe try a grapefruit.

And by the way, f*** you too.

Whatever that means.

About gary

no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
This entry was posted in running and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to “A Christmas Story” comes early

  1. Rebecca says:

    This is a good one. Really good. Laugh out loud good. Highlight of my evening good. Thanks.

  2. SeniorRunner says:

    Hmm… A “Fuck you!” triggers a brief zen moment…
    Enlightenment may lie just around the corner!

  3. Moose says:

    And I thought the above expletives were just… well… expletives. If it sparked a zen moment, you should actually thank the kid.

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