Waiting at the red light, we heard a persistent honking of a presumably impatient commuter.
“Are they honking at us?” I asked while looking in the side mirror.
Rich was driving and looked around, equally puzzled for the source. “I think it’s someone behind that guy over there...” He pointed across the intersection to the right. They had the green light but no one was moving. “It looks like he’s sleeping!!” His eyes were wide, voice rising with excitement.
I glanced over in time to see a young man behind the wheel; head slumped down against the steering wheel.
“Is he alright?” I asked, knowing that Rich wouldn’t have any more of an idea than I did. I felt silly asking.
Another long honk of a horn sounded, causing the driver to react. He looked very intoxicated. He jerked his head up and suddenly he sped off across the intersection, right into the neighborhood directly across the street in front of him.
Rich and I just watched in momentary stunned silence as the guy ran full speed into a car parked in the driveway of one of the duplexes. “Holy crap!” was all Rich could say. We both sat there with our mouths wide open. The driver had hit the parked car so hard that he pushed it about three feet through the partially closed garage door.
“We need to go over there! We’re witnesses!” I exclaimed. Rich agreed so we turned around as fast as we could. We pulled in to find the parking lot full of people surrounding a crunched up car and a confused, wobbly young man who could barely keep his sagging pants up or his eyes open. He was being detained by a large muscular man, cell phone to his ear and looking rather irritated. Everything was under control. Our involvement wasn’t necessary so we just kept on driving but couldn’t help but wondering, “What was that all about?”
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Snake Man; From the 'What was that all about' series:
It was my birthday. My boyfriend - Rich and I had just finished having sushi and decided to head to the nearest pub for a birthday toast. We stepped out into the early evening air. It was late September and a slight chill was setting in. Leaves were just starting to turn and the Lake City street had an appealing charm with the old fashioned street lights, numerous trees and warm lights shining out from the quaint shops and restaurants.
We saw a young woman sitting on top of a bicycle stand. She was very thin with short brown hair. Her clothes were worn out, kind of hippy style. She was wearing a tank top despite the temperature. Oddly enough, she appeared to be very comfortable perched there among the parked bicycles, smoking her cigarette just watching the cars drive by. We decided to ask her for directions to a pub.
When she drew in a breath to answer it sent her into a fit of coughing. “Well…” She couldn’t finish because spasms of coughing overcame her. I was a little shocked because her voice sounded like a much older person than she appeared to be. She pointed a bony finger to somewhere across the street. For a moment I felt bad for having inadvertently causing her distress. She spat the contents of her lung onto the sidewalk. I quickly got over my feelings of guilt.
I couldn’t keep myself from commenting about the hazards of smoking but she didn’t acknowledge me. We thanked her and headed to the crosswalk so we could cross the busy street, her hacking became fainter with each step.
We hadn’t even gone a half of a block when we began hearing a man yelling, “Hey do you want $20,000?” He was behind us, about where the coughing woman sat. At first we ignored him, but he kept saying the same thing over and over. Unable to ignore him any longer, we turned.
He was a Native American man with flowing black hair, two children in tow. He had a ghetto blaster in one arm and a twelve pack of beer in the other - Rolling Rock. One child had a gallon of chocolate milk and the other had a yardstick. All in all it was an interesting sight.
“Are you talking to us?” I asked.
He was excited and out of breath. “Yes, I just won Lotto and want to give some of it away. Do you want $20,000?” His children were equally as excited and held out their treasures for me to see. A yardstick, really? I thought that he must have made a stop by the ‘dollar store’ or something.
Rich and I exchanged glances, trying not to laugh at him. “No man, we don’t want your money.” Rich said putting his hands up for emphasis.
The man looked offended. “You don’t believe me, do you?” He looked from Rich to me. “Look, I just bought this jacket!” It was a rather expensive looking leather jacket. I shrugged, not knowing what to say.
The taller child tugged on the man’s sleeve. “Show them your snake dad!”
Rich and I looked at each other with wide eyes. “A snake?” I asked.
“Yeah, look. It’s in my pocket.” He put down the ghetto blaster and beer. I stepped back a bit, becoming a little creeped out by of this strange guy.
He opened his jacket and sure enough, there was a large moving bulge in his side pocket. “I just bought this snake!” Reaching into his pocket and producing a cream colored snake, about three feet long. He offered it to me to hold. I’ve never had a fear of snakes so I accepted. It was beautiful and cold to the touch. It began coiling itself around my arm. I asked Rich if he wanted to pet it. He shook his head, looking at me like I was crazy.
Just then one of the kids yelled out, “Dad, there’s our bus, we better go!” The kids ran towards the bus stop. “Come on dad, we’re going to miss the bus!”
To my surprise the man picked up his ghetto blaster and beer and ran after them. He called back over his shoulder to us, “We have to make this bus!” I looked from the snake wrapped around my arm, to Rich, to the running man and then back to the snake again. I began to run after the man. He totally forgot his snake.
“Wait! You forgot your snake!” I called after him. I stopped running when I saw that he had turned and was running back towards me. When he reached me, he tucked the beer under his arm and grabbed the snake. He started running again to the bus – but the snake was still around my arm. I had to run along with him so he wouldn’t harm the poor thing. It was stretched to capacity but holding firmly. Finally it lost its grip and the man ran into the dark to catch the bus. All I could see was his silhouette and that of the snake swinging around wildly.
Rich caught up with me and we watched the three, small now in the distance, get onto the bus. The bus went a few feet and then the flashers went on and we could see the three small figures getting off of the bus. We burst into hysterical laughter and then ran across the street when we realized that that crazy man and his circus might try to find us.
Once across the street and safely out of sight we couldn’t help but wonder ‘What was that all about?’
We saw a young woman sitting on top of a bicycle stand. She was very thin with short brown hair. Her clothes were worn out, kind of hippy style. She was wearing a tank top despite the temperature. Oddly enough, she appeared to be very comfortable perched there among the parked bicycles, smoking her cigarette just watching the cars drive by. We decided to ask her for directions to a pub.
When she drew in a breath to answer it sent her into a fit of coughing. “Well…” She couldn’t finish because spasms of coughing overcame her. I was a little shocked because her voice sounded like a much older person than she appeared to be. She pointed a bony finger to somewhere across the street. For a moment I felt bad for having inadvertently causing her distress. She spat the contents of her lung onto the sidewalk. I quickly got over my feelings of guilt.
I couldn’t keep myself from commenting about the hazards of smoking but she didn’t acknowledge me. We thanked her and headed to the crosswalk so we could cross the busy street, her hacking became fainter with each step.
We hadn’t even gone a half of a block when we began hearing a man yelling, “Hey do you want $20,000?” He was behind us, about where the coughing woman sat. At first we ignored him, but he kept saying the same thing over and over. Unable to ignore him any longer, we turned.
He was a Native American man with flowing black hair, two children in tow. He had a ghetto blaster in one arm and a twelve pack of beer in the other - Rolling Rock. One child had a gallon of chocolate milk and the other had a yardstick. All in all it was an interesting sight.
“Are you talking to us?” I asked.
He was excited and out of breath. “Yes, I just won Lotto and want to give some of it away. Do you want $20,000?” His children were equally as excited and held out their treasures for me to see. A yardstick, really? I thought that he must have made a stop by the ‘dollar store’ or something.
Rich and I exchanged glances, trying not to laugh at him. “No man, we don’t want your money.” Rich said putting his hands up for emphasis.
The man looked offended. “You don’t believe me, do you?” He looked from Rich to me. “Look, I just bought this jacket!” It was a rather expensive looking leather jacket. I shrugged, not knowing what to say.
The taller child tugged on the man’s sleeve. “Show them your snake dad!”
Rich and I looked at each other with wide eyes. “A snake?” I asked.
“Yeah, look. It’s in my pocket.” He put down the ghetto blaster and beer. I stepped back a bit, becoming a little creeped out by of this strange guy.
He opened his jacket and sure enough, there was a large moving bulge in his side pocket. “I just bought this snake!” Reaching into his pocket and producing a cream colored snake, about three feet long. He offered it to me to hold. I’ve never had a fear of snakes so I accepted. It was beautiful and cold to the touch. It began coiling itself around my arm. I asked Rich if he wanted to pet it. He shook his head, looking at me like I was crazy.
Just then one of the kids yelled out, “Dad, there’s our bus, we better go!” The kids ran towards the bus stop. “Come on dad, we’re going to miss the bus!”
To my surprise the man picked up his ghetto blaster and beer and ran after them. He called back over his shoulder to us, “We have to make this bus!” I looked from the snake wrapped around my arm, to Rich, to the running man and then back to the snake again. I began to run after the man. He totally forgot his snake.
“Wait! You forgot your snake!” I called after him. I stopped running when I saw that he had turned and was running back towards me. When he reached me, he tucked the beer under his arm and grabbed the snake. He started running again to the bus – but the snake was still around my arm. I had to run along with him so he wouldn’t harm the poor thing. It was stretched to capacity but holding firmly. Finally it lost its grip and the man ran into the dark to catch the bus. All I could see was his silhouette and that of the snake swinging around wildly.
Rich caught up with me and we watched the three, small now in the distance, get onto the bus. The bus went a few feet and then the flashers went on and we could see the three small figures getting off of the bus. We burst into hysterical laughter and then ran across the street when we realized that that crazy man and his circus might try to find us.
Once across the street and safely out of sight we couldn’t help but wonder ‘What was that all about?’
Fair Fish
Summer of 1988
I took my kids, as I always did to the county fair. I didn’t count on their ping pong tossing abilities improving with age, so alas we went home with a fair-fish. A hearty little gold fish that would become a part of the family for several years. Who would have guessed that? Gold fish usually become upside down floaters somewhere between night and the early dawn – don’t they?
I would have to say that Fair-fish was indeed a member of the catfish family. I say this because that little guy had many lives, like a cat.
Life 1;
I couldn’t find anyone to fish sit, so I had to take him on a road trip with me. I put him in a mason jar with a screw top lid, which I periodically unscrewed to let air in. When I reached my destination, I put Fair-fish on the floor board and opened the lid so he could breath. I decided to just leave the open jar on the floor while I went in to visit my friends.
Like a dummy I let one of my friends borrow my car to run to the store a couple of blocks away. (I was young and dumb – and had never seen Judge Judy before) When he returned, he was flushed and upset. At first I thought that it had something to do with my car, and then my eyes widened as I remembered Fair-fish hanging out on the floorboard.
My horror turned to hysterical laughter as he shared his experience. He wasn’t aware of the fish until he turned a corner, causing the jar to tip and the fish to flop out, gasping for breath. In a panic, he pulled over, and picked the fish up gently. With the fish flipping in the palm of his hand he tried to think about what to do. He saw a Burger King across the street and decided to run over to it for help. He looked down at the fish and spit on it to keep it from drying out.
Once inside the restaurant he began yelling and pushed his way to the front of the line, startling employees and customers alike. The consensus was that something terrible had happened out on the street. He held out his palm to a bewildered girl working behind the counter and asked for a glass of water.
Once the fish was safely in the glass of water, the restaurant irrupted in cheers and laughter.
Life 2;
Having Navy boys for friends certainly had it crazy times. My kids were spending the weekend with their dad and it was one of those times where I had had enough and just wanted everyone to go away. I had just worked a long shift at the Bicycle Club Casino in Bell Gardens, California. I came home to a bunch of drunken fools, which really didn’t help my already bad mood.
I heard a commotion in the kitchen and ran to see what was going on. Everyone was staring at Fair-fish’s bowl. I peeked over tall shoulders and noticed that his water was yellow and he was looking very distressed. I freaked out and elbowed my way to the kitchen counter to rescue my pet.
Once I had him safely into a glass of clean water I turned angrily to the group of fools, demanding to know what had happened. It seemed that one of the bleeping sailors thought that it would be funny to pour a Corona into the fish bowl. That was the last party at my place.
Life 3;
Fair-fish was on display in a beautiful new bowl on the mantel above the fireplace. The multi-shades of blue rocks matched the carpet and sofa perfectly. He was a happy healthy fish with long flowing fins. I was amazed that he had made it three years so far.
For reasons unbeknownst to me, my roommate, who worked in the Fire Safety business decided to pour gasoline on the dwindling flickers of flame in the fireplace. There was a loud whoosh and he jumped back quickly with a yell.
I ran past him to grab up Fair-fish’s bowl, which was now covered with a thick black film. I took my fish into the dining room and returned to give my roommate a piece of my mind. The dumb ass!! He could have burned down the house!! My anger turned to laughter as I saw that his eyebrows were gone. He so deserved it, even though he didn’t exactly see it that way.
Life 4;
Thanksgiving was going to be at my mom’s in Oregon. I decided that it would be too troublesome to take Fair-fish with us, and my little sister Kellie offered to take care of him. I had reservations about this but asked myself how bad could it be?
The holiday was wonderful and I returned home still full of the warm wonderful feelings that come with that time of year. I called my stepmother to let her know that I we were safely home and that I would drop by the following day after work.
I was greeted by Kellie when I pulled into the driveway. I knew without asking that something was wrong. She explained that she had just had a funeral for my fish. Flashes of horrific images flew through my mind. Kellie didn’t have a great track record with small pets left in her care.
Sadly, all I could hope for was that he really was dead before getting the big flush.
I took my kids, as I always did to the county fair. I didn’t count on their ping pong tossing abilities improving with age, so alas we went home with a fair-fish. A hearty little gold fish that would become a part of the family for several years. Who would have guessed that? Gold fish usually become upside down floaters somewhere between night and the early dawn – don’t they?
I would have to say that Fair-fish was indeed a member of the catfish family. I say this because that little guy had many lives, like a cat.
Life 1;
I couldn’t find anyone to fish sit, so I had to take him on a road trip with me. I put him in a mason jar with a screw top lid, which I periodically unscrewed to let air in. When I reached my destination, I put Fair-fish on the floor board and opened the lid so he could breath. I decided to just leave the open jar on the floor while I went in to visit my friends.
Like a dummy I let one of my friends borrow my car to run to the store a couple of blocks away. (I was young and dumb – and had never seen Judge Judy before) When he returned, he was flushed and upset. At first I thought that it had something to do with my car, and then my eyes widened as I remembered Fair-fish hanging out on the floorboard.
My horror turned to hysterical laughter as he shared his experience. He wasn’t aware of the fish until he turned a corner, causing the jar to tip and the fish to flop out, gasping for breath. In a panic, he pulled over, and picked the fish up gently. With the fish flipping in the palm of his hand he tried to think about what to do. He saw a Burger King across the street and decided to run over to it for help. He looked down at the fish and spit on it to keep it from drying out.
Once inside the restaurant he began yelling and pushed his way to the front of the line, startling employees and customers alike. The consensus was that something terrible had happened out on the street. He held out his palm to a bewildered girl working behind the counter and asked for a glass of water.
Once the fish was safely in the glass of water, the restaurant irrupted in cheers and laughter.
Life 2;
Having Navy boys for friends certainly had it crazy times. My kids were spending the weekend with their dad and it was one of those times where I had had enough and just wanted everyone to go away. I had just worked a long shift at the Bicycle Club Casino in Bell Gardens, California. I came home to a bunch of drunken fools, which really didn’t help my already bad mood.
I heard a commotion in the kitchen and ran to see what was going on. Everyone was staring at Fair-fish’s bowl. I peeked over tall shoulders and noticed that his water was yellow and he was looking very distressed. I freaked out and elbowed my way to the kitchen counter to rescue my pet.
Once I had him safely into a glass of clean water I turned angrily to the group of fools, demanding to know what had happened. It seemed that one of the bleeping sailors thought that it would be funny to pour a Corona into the fish bowl. That was the last party at my place.
Life 3;
Fair-fish was on display in a beautiful new bowl on the mantel above the fireplace. The multi-shades of blue rocks matched the carpet and sofa perfectly. He was a happy healthy fish with long flowing fins. I was amazed that he had made it three years so far.
For reasons unbeknownst to me, my roommate, who worked in the Fire Safety business decided to pour gasoline on the dwindling flickers of flame in the fireplace. There was a loud whoosh and he jumped back quickly with a yell.
I ran past him to grab up Fair-fish’s bowl, which was now covered with a thick black film. I took my fish into the dining room and returned to give my roommate a piece of my mind. The dumb ass!! He could have burned down the house!! My anger turned to laughter as I saw that his eyebrows were gone. He so deserved it, even though he didn’t exactly see it that way.
Life 4;
Thanksgiving was going to be at my mom’s in Oregon. I decided that it would be too troublesome to take Fair-fish with us, and my little sister Kellie offered to take care of him. I had reservations about this but asked myself how bad could it be?
The holiday was wonderful and I returned home still full of the warm wonderful feelings that come with that time of year. I called my stepmother to let her know that I we were safely home and that I would drop by the following day after work.
I was greeted by Kellie when I pulled into the driveway. I knew without asking that something was wrong. She explained that she had just had a funeral for my fish. Flashes of horrific images flew through my mind. Kellie didn’t have a great track record with small pets left in her care.
Sadly, all I could hope for was that he really was dead before getting the big flush.
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