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Monday, June 20, 2016

What the world.....needs now......

People seem to think that just because I’ve been slaving away for my Corporate Overlords #layinglow, this means that somehow the usual Don’t Fuck With Me rules no longer apply.

Sigh.

Not so, my friends, decidedly not so.

This was brought to bear last week at the rezzy, where The Kone and I continue to go every day, defying the Corporate Overlords and their requirements of “work” and an “8-hour day” or some such nonsense. As if royalty (Kone) and perfection (me) could ever thusly be contained.

Anyway.

We went on our usual walkie, and as is our occasional habit when we come out of the woods, I let HRH off the leash so that he can go chase the duckies down by the piers. He runs down, bravely barks and barks, they pretend to be scared, and then immediately swim back as soon as Kone looks away. Win-win for everyone. Except for this time, when Kone went trotting down one of the piers and sniffed at the stuff that some fisherman had spread all over the damn pier. Fine, whatever. While he was doing that, I noticed a surly-looking guy in a wetsuit, and had the following conversation with him:

Me: How’s the water?
Surly Guy: Frigid.
Me: What’s the temp?
SG: I don’t know, 58 maybe.

I snort, of course. 58? As in a barely-wetsuit-legal 58? “Sounds pretty warm to me,” I say under my breath. And YES it was under my breath – because in retrospect I wish I had guffawed and said it really loudly. Seriously though, try swimming in Lake Michigan when it’s 48 degrees, and then we’ll talk cold, wimpy man.

Then Kone went to the other pier, and in the meantime Surly Guy had gone down to the end of it. Kone had barely even gotten to the end, when Surly Guy opened his mouth.

SG: And all dogs are supposed to be on leashes. Get him away from me.

OhNoYouDidNotJustSayThatAsshole

Well. Needless to say, the claws of Momma Bear are now out, because hell hath no fury like me when someone disses my happy little boy. But first, this leash bullshit.

Me: No they’re not.
SG: Yes they are.
Fisherman Dude pipes up: Yes they are.
SG: Yes they are.
Me: No they’re not. But you know what? Fine. Have me arrested. Really, go ahead! Call the police! BE MY GUEST!

Now of course I have no idea about the actual leash law here, but everyone has their dogs running around willy-nilly and it’s never a problem. As I’m yelling for Surly Asshole Guy to call the cops, I’m walking up the slope to where the cars are parked, and where there are signs for the reservoir: rules, a map, etc. I’m staring at these and reading them, next to the car of Guy Who’s There Every Day. I have no idea what his actual name is, but he’s this older guy who parks there pretty much every day and just hangs out. Super nice guy. Let’s call him Steve.

Steve: Hey, how’s it going? What’s going on?
Me: Oh, just reading the sign here, to see if it says anything about leashes.
Steve: Is that what that guy was yelling about?
Me: Yep, can you imagine? Yelling at Kone! And gee, lookie here, nothing about leashes. Imagine that.

Naturally, I turn around and take a few steps down the ramp, towards the piers where Surly Guy still is.

Me: Hey, guess what! There’s nothing at all here about leashes! So really, you can just FUCK RIGHT OFF!

My voice carried nicely, so let’s just say this might have garnered a few stares from the other people at the rezzy, fishing and such. As if I care. Steve and I start chatting again, and of course he’s totally with me on this, when Surly Guy starts walking towards the parking lot.

Me: Maybe you should take a look at the sign! Oh, if you can read, that is, if that’s not too tricky for you.
SG: Your dog was bothering me anyway.
Me: He didn’t even go near you. So hey, why don’t you go fuck yourself?

Surly Guy has nothing to say to that, and sullenly walks past us, glaring but silent. Steve and I then spend 10 minutes talking about how horrible people are, how they apparently exist just to try to bring people down, how unnecessary that is, that life’s too short, etc. After I say bye to him and walk to my car, I notice that Surly Guy is next to his car, still changing out of his wetsuit. I think to myself, hmm, maybe he heard some of our conversation, and realized that yes, he IS being a total dick for no reason. And will become a better person for it. Yes, I’m sure that’s what will happen, a total epiphany on his part. Totally.

A few days later

Right. So. I’m back at the rezzy, and see my pal Steve and start chatting with him.

Steve: Hey, I have to tell you, after you left the other day…
Me: Oh yeah, the day with the asshole guy.
Steve: Yeah. So a little bit later, a cop shows up!
Me: What??
Steve: That guy flagged him down on the road! Complained about you! The cop drove around, looking for you probably, then drove up here and started reading the sign. And I told him there was nothing there about leashes.
Me: Haha, exactly!
Steve: Then he said something about how even if that’s the case, it’s in the city ordinance. And I told him, but it’s not on the sign. At all. And if they want to enforce it, they should put it on the sign.
Me: Uhh yeah, I think I’m safe.
Steve: Pretty much.

So much for that brief shining hopeful moment for humanity. Sigh.


5 comments:

Bbbbbbbbbn said...

I don't get it. Why did you have the thought that people don't suck? Because people.

CPD said...

Wait, you're judging wetsuit guy for swimming in 58 degree water? This from the woman who complained about the 82 degree DePaul pool?

Robyn said...

58 at galena would mean someone had to pee on the thermometer to make the swim legal.

Tasha the Triathlon Goddess said...

CPD, that was completely different. Need I remind you of the baby harp seals frolicking around in that pool?? A pool 82 is totally different from a lake 58!

S'toon said...

I did my SCUBA qualification dives in Lake Ontario at the end of October. It was only a few degrees above freezing out.