Knowing a secret and not being able to share it far and wide is burning a hole inside me. I've known something about somebody else for more than six weeks now. I was promised that eventually I'd get to talk about it, once certain conditions were met, because it's really, really cool. As of yet, those conditions were technically achieved, but one last hurdle was thrown at me last week, right as I was starting to compose in my head. It's hard as heck, being the kind of person who thrives on getting to tell stories, but having to wait my turn because this story actually belongs to someone else. It sure is a good one. I promise.
While I wait, seemingly forever, I guess I'll stick with sharing my regular goofy observations. The Mr and I were traveling up Main Street this afternoon, when the right-hand lane slowed significantly, and everyone started making gutsy lane changes into spaces where they barely fit. When the guy in front of me moved over, I was able to see what the fuss was about. Some yahoo in a pickup truck had a busted tire, but he steadfastly refused to pull over. I bet other people were calling him names like I was from my car, but like me, they all had their windows up and were mostly just talking to the dashboard. It took me a few blocks to get around him, and not once did he make a move to pull onto a side street or into a parking lot. The picture I have is as he drove past Advance Auto Parts, ironically enough. (I cropped that part out when I marked out his license tag.) I was just mesmerized by that wobbly tire, flopping loosely as this guy crawled slowly up Main. I'm lucky that no one stopped suddenly around me. I wouldn't have noticed until I hit them.
What's more, when I had first set out, heading south on the same street, there was a homeless fellow walking in the center turn lane, stopping periodically to hold up his cardboard sign at cars slowing for the stoplight. Is this an escalation of how aggressive cardboard sign holders already are? Tell me this isn't a trend. It seems monumentally dangerous, even if it does succeed in increasing visibility for street beggars. Once again, I found myself speaking to my dashboard, knowing the dude couldn't hear me, pleading with him to find one of the charities where he could find help. There are people here whose life's missions are to improve his situation. Does he not know, or not care? Maybe he has another reason to be so comfortable with risk.
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