Tuesday, January 8, 2008

musings from the pavement

I noted in my last posting that usually a Spanish speaker is paired with a non Spanish speaker. On the last day of delivering there was evidently some confusion higher up in the ranks as I was teamed with my baby sister, Shawna, whom I share an apartment with and whom knows the same amount of Spanish as I do. None.

You ask, “How do you communicate with a happened upon Spanish person when you know squat in the same language?” My old standby method is to use as many wild hand gestures and wacked out facial expressions as I can dream up. Either this method worked extraordinarily well or it was assumed that we were escapees from an insane asylum and they were just nodding in agreement hoping they could escape our terrible clutches.

Another finely honed skill I have acquired, due to my extensive experience walking the beat in Mexico, is ears with a highly attuned sense of hearing. I can pick up any sort of a noise that could possibly be attributed to that of a roving wild beast (commonly called: ‘dog’). This fine, balmy morning my ears were in action: Dogs to my left down by Shawna’s end of the street. I finished my end and walked jauntily down towards her on the sidewalk. I felt so beautiful! I had actually done my hair that morning plus I was wearing my contacts which allowed me to don (for the very first time) a pair of Christmas present new, large white rimmed sunglasses. Perfecto! I reached Shawna in the midst of contemplating these things (along with many other deep thoughts of much consequence).

”RRRRGGGGGGG, RUFF, GROOOOOWWLLL.” Suddenly, loudly, and in chorus three beasts charge towards me. I panic. My limbs develop a mind of their own, my arms whip up and over the back of my head and my feet surge backwards. My feet miss the sidewalk and land not so squarely on a 45 degree angled curb. I tip. My body is rushing backwards ready to come to an unfortunate end, but with my one pack ab I deftly jerk my body forward so I end up on my knees and knuckles and just nearly kissing the road. One eye is still looking through mirrored sunglasses, the other is very definitely peering above. Even with my mismatched vision I make out my attackers: All three glaring at me from a short distance away.

Behind a firmly shut and locked gate.

I start pondering my living arrangements: Should I inquire at insane asylums??

1 comment:

Mr T said...

You know, right from the first paragraph I had a vision of you and baby Shawna becoming dog-meat!

The old Mexican gentleman dumped you? Africa, Scotland, England, Canada, Mexico - its just one long trail of broken hearts. Maybe its all that introspection that puts them off. Its kind of hard for a guy to be walking along in the sunshine with his gorgeous Canadian girlfriend, and having to ask,'What are you laughing about?' 'Oh - nothing'. 'What are you thinking about?' 'Oh-nothing much'.

Contacts and sunglasses? I'm thinking - alien.

'We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars'.
Oscar Wilde