BIKES AND BODIES AND BOOTS (TO THE HEAD)

We went out briefly tonight. But that's not really interesting.

The interesting bit happened on the drive home.

We were turning right, off a main street, to a side street when we noticed a body and a bike lying in the crosswalk of the main street.

We stopped the car. Wonko hopped out. I turned the car off and called 911, because, you know, body and a bike in the street!

I thought, momentarily, that it was odd that they were lying so straight, on their back, in the crosswalk. And why was the bike at his head? And why couldn't I see a face? Then I thought back to an event in my teen days where a friend of a friend had been drunk and passed out on a road and been hit by a car (he didn't die, but it didn't have an especially happy ending).

Two women were on the sidewalk, watching. I got out of the car to see better. Poor Weeb kept asking what was going on and I told her that we thought someone needed our help and I was calling 911.

As the 911 operator answered (very quickly, I might add; I've always been impressed with our 911 service), Wonko was walking back to me, then he turned and went back to the body and dragged what was now very clearly NOT a body, to the sidewalk.

I apologized to the 911 operator and explained that we thought someone was in the crosswalk, but it turned out to be a bike, and clothes stuffed with paper to look like a body. And it was covered in ketchup.

Yeah, you read that right.

The 911 operator explained he still had to transfer me to the police. Now I'm explaining to a police officer what had happened. He seemed confused as to why I was transfered from 911 if it was a prank. I explained the 911 operator said they had to transfer me. Then I suggested that they might want to send a car since Wonko had just dragged the stuff to the sidewalk and the A-Hole pranksters might just drag it back to the street.

When I say this was in the crosswalk, I'm saying if a car had been driving in that lane, it would have run over 'the body'. Or at least screeched to a halt trying to avoid it. And how would you feel on a nice Saturday night if you'd hit something with your car? I know I'd want to hurl.

I will say that another fellow was driving from the side street onto the main street when he saw our car stopped, doors open and Wonko pulling something off the road, and this guy got out of his car and offered to help. Hats off to you, dude!

And a big thumbs up to my brave little Weeb who kept her cool in the car!

So to the kind pranksters who covered my husband in ketchup, gave me a heart attack and freaked out my kid, BOOT TO THE HEAD.

HIGH WIRE SNEAKERS

I don't know if this happens everywhere, but here, it is not unusual to see sneakers hanging from power lines.

I have no idea how they get up there. I imagine they are tossed up there, but I also imagine you must have a pretty good arm to get them up that high.

So are there groups of shoe thieves out there attacking unsuspecting, large footed people donned in running shoes, snatching said shoes, tying the laces together and then pitching them up on these wires? Do the victims of shoe thievery just walk home in their socks? Do the thieving pitchers get bonus points if they get them up there on the first toss?

Or are people doing this to their own shoes on purpose? Maybe it's like tagging (graffiti)? Maybe it's just a way of saying, "I was here! And my feet are large! And I need new shoes!"

It's no digger in a ditch, yet it still fascinates me and Weeb every time we see them. This particular shoe-y ornament has graced the power lines outside the corner store near our house. They've been there for the better part of a year, maybe more. Every time we drive or walk by, Weeb says, "They're still there." And then I say, "Yup." Yeah, it's not a big conversation starter, but it is still a moment for us.

So thank you, shoe tossing strangers, for this interesting little conversation piece (however brief the conversation may be).

THE MIGHTY MIGHT OF MAKEUP

I didn’t leave the house wearing make up this morning.

I usually don’t. I’m happily married and work with two fellows, who though very nice, I’m not trying to impress with my looks. In fact, having worked with plenty of men in the past, I have found looking good just gets me into trouble.

Why not look good for my husband, you ask? Well one, he is peculiar and thinks I look good, no matter how crappy I look to the rest of the world. And two, I’m not going to see him all day.

So I was sitting at my desk, doing the typical paper shuffling that comes with my job when something happened that lead me to sneak off to the bathroom to apply a bit of make up.

Now what, you must be wondering, could persuade an otherwise make-up-lazy woman to un-ugly a bit? Well I’ll tell you.

My boss came in with his wife.

It is my belief that women fuss over how they look because of other woman more than wanting to be attractive to men. We just can’t stand the idea that we might be ugly compared to the women around us. It’s not a competition as much as we just don’t want to ever be described as ‘the ugly one’.

It’s amazing the power that an eyeliner pencil and a tube of mascara can have on a gal. It’s even more amazing how we really think it makes any difference. I can promise you that the only one who knew I was wearing any make up at all was me. I even left it on until after my husband got home from work. I can also promise you that he didn’t notice.

I won’t leave the house wearing make up tomorrow morning.

I’m pretty sure it’s not going to matter much.