Her Ladyship

Notes from the gutter.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Death becomes her

When you're trundling by foot along a major street, with cars whizzing past you at 50+ mph, it really makes you face your own mortality. Let me tell you, the roads of San Antonio are not set up for pedestrians. I realize that this is common to the burbs, but wow is it scary out there.

The Texan recently started back up at school, forcing constant planning regarding our shared car. This morning, I decided, the hell with it - I live barely one minute's drive from the gym, I'm gonna walk it. I used to do it all the time in DC; I wouldn't even blink at hiking 30 minutes or more to get where I needed to go. Not so much any more.

In order to get to the shopping center where my gym is located (and NO, it's not a Curves, thankyouverymuch), you have to spend maybe 100 yards walking along a major thoroughfare for our neck of the woods. And of course, since no one apparently walks anywhere, why pay to have sidewalks put in? Sweet jesus, you feel like you're taking your life in your hands by becoming a pedestrian. This doesn't even mention dodging cars coming from what seems like all four dimensions in the parking lot.

The only people you see walking around here are those giving their dogs some exercise. This morning, a few drivers looked at me as if to say, Where's your pet, you non-leash-using asshole?

Of course, I have lived here for two months and this is the farthest I've walked that wasn't inside a mall. So I'm one to talk.


I also played with Death yesterday while doing a little B&E. Here in Texas, everyone has signs on their fences warning darkly that "We don't call 911" while a happy revolver scampers in the background. But I was playing with the dog and his ball, due to my sorry throwing arm, ended up in the neighbors' yard. The poor animal was going nuts, as he could clearly see the ball through the chain link fence but couldn't get at it. So I tried knocking on their door to do this legitimately, but they weren't home. That left me no option except to climb over the fence and retrieve the dog's ball before he did himself some major damage. I did, crossing my fingers that no sniper was sitting poised in an upstairs window, going, "Careful...careful...just finish crossing into my yard and everything I do to you is legal."


Post a Comment

<< Home