While driving to the supermarket today, it occurred to me that living in the city I’m wearing out the motor for the power windows in our truck. As I drive I’m constantly working the windows: up and down, up and down, up and down.
I stop at a red light, the windows go up. I go on the green light, the windows go down. I slow down in heavy traffic, the windows go up. I speed up to drive, the windows go down. I take a corner, the windows go up. I get on the highway, the windows go down.
I constantly work the windows as if it was part of driving, like shifting. Except I don’t have to shift because the truck is an automatic, but I do have to work the windows. If I want to stay alive, that is.
I didn’t usually venture to far from Fort Bliss, but there were a few times I was REALLY nervous. I never went anywhere alone. If the ex had to work, someone was assigned to cart me around. Apparently they did this for all the visiting girl/boyfriends. It was okay until some guy, whom I’d never met, had to take me to the PX to buy tampons.
I do that when I am Dallas. It freaks me out.
Before “power” everything, I got really good at the “elbow lock.” That’s the maneuver you use when you’ve stopped at a sinister-looking street corner and you realize you didn’t lock your door, so you nonchalantly reach back and lock it with your elbow. You know, so as not to offend the murderers.
We get that up here a lot in some areas. Now they’ve started posting signs at the corners by the Department of Transportation or whatever saying No Loitering. Seems to help on one corner where I always got stopped at the red light. I read an article not so long ago that panhandlers actually make pretty good money. I don’t know where all the dumb people come from that actually give them money.
I’m like MB – very familiar with the old elbow lock. LOL.
@ MBMQ – That’s so funny, because I do the “elbow check” where I casually slide my elbow back to make sure the automatic lock has functioned properly.
@ Little Miss – The panhandlers here must make a good living because several have organized and purchased houses. In a city where it’s possible to purchase a home for $20,000 to $40,000, the panhandlers have figured out how to live together in their own homes which, I’m assuming, they bought with cash.
What I find most disturbing is the little old lady panhandlers who sit outside of places like Walgreens and K-Mart and Marshalls with an INFANT in their arms and a tin cup in their hand. I think this should be illegal and a form of child abuse, but I see them regularly. I hate it.
THEY HAVE BABIES! OH MY GAWD!
Being a paranoid person, I lock my car doors automatically even in Falmouth. Just after I got married, Barry joined the National Guard because he was #2 in the draft lottery back in 1971 and he didn’t want to go to Viet Nam. I used to drive from Providence to the Cape every Friday night and stay the weekend on Barbara’s couch during Barry’s 4 months of training. One night as I was entering an on-ramp to the highway, two men who were hitchhiking, tried to open the doors of my VW bug and get in it. Of course the doors were locked and I sped away. Speeding away in a VW bug is like speeding away in a cripple cart, it happens very slowly and one of them was still hanging onto the door handle. I swerved the car until he let go and went flying into the side of the road. The other one was trying to chase after the car but I easily won that race and left them in the dust. But since then I’m a door locker and a window closer.
I was walking out of a T (Boston public transportation) station years ago when this guy asked for change. I’d already said no so wasn’t really paying attention to him. Until he showed up in front of me screaming that I’d stolen his friends tape player.
I told him to back off while trying to step around him. He got in front of me again. I stopped again, told him to get the fuck out of my way, he told me to give him back the tape player then grabbed my coat.
I didn’t much appreciate that.
Just as I’m sure he didn’t appreciate my grabbing his throat and walking him, which, when I think back on it, was ill advised. Not because I was concerned about safety (thinking on it now, I really should consider safety, if not actually first, at least third or fourth) but because, now that I had him, I had no idea what to do with him. I mean, there’s no way he could come to my meeting.
So there I am, walking a screaming panhandler down a street. I’m yelling at him to shut up, all the while looking for something to do with him.
Finally I turned and slammed him into a rental truck. I held him there for a moment before letting him go and walking away. I’m walking past people pretending they didn’t see anything thinking, “Holy shit! I’ve really got to pick better streets to walk down.” When I hear,
“Hey.”
I look down and there’s a guy sitting on the street. With a squirrel walking over him. No joke. It’s his pet.
“He’s an asshole. He’s always bothering people. Thanks.”
You’re welcome, squirrel guy!
I’m by no means a big or tough guy (but I have had people lock their car doors when I’ve passed. That didn’t begin until I started shaving my head so I have to assume that’s the reason) and this was quite an ‘oh shit’ moment but I’ve always reacted first. I just wrote a bit about what makes me do that that’ll probably come out next week. The good thing now is there’s a lot less touching of other people.
Safety first! Or third!
Wendy, oh sure, you think it’s bad they use their kids to panhandle:
http://www.wyff4.com/news/15726228/detail.html
That’s why I carry a Beretta in my purse.
The older I get, the more often I find myself humming, “Green Acres is the place for me…”
Could we have another cute doggy collage now please Wendy?
Holy crap – people use their babies in this stuff? That has to be child abuse. Sheesh. Hopefully the panhandle commune house isn’t in your neighborhood, Wendy.
@ Lucky – They do have babies, but some of the panhandlers are really old and I know they’re holding their grandchild (probably with the baby’s parents’ blessing). It’s probably a form of day care.
@ Joan – Oh my god, how terrifying. You were really lucky. And smart to have your doors locked.
@ Bound and Gags – Buck absolutely loved your story. I did too. Buck lived in Boston for many years and had so many confrontations with people like that, he thinks you’ve really got the right idea. It was a great story! And your link was horrific; bring us back to that whole thing about people should really need a license to have kids.
@ Maxine – Though I love the idea of you carrying a Beretta in your purse, it would never work for me. I have the physical strength of two-year-old, I can’t even open a jar of pickles. My attacker would just take the gun away from me and kill me with it.
@ David – Yes. I’m working on one now.
@ Little Miss – Yes, they use their kids and grandkids. Thankfully I live in a really nice neighborhood, but unfortunatly it’s surrounded by scary places. But in a surreal twist, on summer nights we’re loudly serenaded by live Mariachi bands all night long. It’s a big party neighborhood. We’re never invited, of course, but I like the music.
I find this somewhat humorous, because I actually did burn out the motor on my power window recently. I think I’ll go blog about it……….
I love this post – when I was in New Orleans last week there was a man sitting on the side of the road looking almost exactly like this only his sign said “Need fuel for my private jet” I was just like are you serious? You expect people to put money in that?! I know he’s not being serious but he’s not even trying to get sympathy! It’s a sarcastic comment so people will give him money!
One time my mother in law made 4 pb&j sandwiches for a homeless woman and her children. When she brought it over to her the homeless woman asked her to cut them into halves. I’m not kidding.
@ Dragonfly – Welcome back! I’m so glad you’ve this cool job that takes you to all these places. the pg&j story is amazing. I’m always tempted to give homeless people food, but I don’t think they want it. Not the people around here anyway. They want money.