wordinista (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wordinista) wrote2009-08-25 08:31 pm
wordinista) wrote2009-08-25 08:31 pm
Oh, the places you'll go!
For the past three weeks, not only have I been walking the doggies over one of the local causeways that link the mainland to the barrier islands (it's about a 2 mile walk w/ a significant incline), but in the afternoons Tora and I have been walking over a different causeway (a couple of miles north of the other one). This bridge is a little over 2 miles and has a more significant (read: hateful, evil) incline.
So! Three days a week I'm walking about four miles a day. Go me! And I assume someday I will stop being completely exhausted all the time. Today is not that day.
However, never let it be said that our workout regimen is without excitement. Yesterday, we went over the causeway, like we do, and on the return trip we noticed that there's a walkway that actually runs under the bridge. So we, being the inquisitive-type people we are, took a walk along this walkway. Under the bridge.
It was quite obviously a hotspot for fishing types, given all the... fish guts (oh, the aroma), and there were empty beer bottles and discarded bits of fishing line, and the whole "walking under the bridge" thing seemed like a much better idea when I hadn't considered the olfactory aspect of it. Needless to say: gross.
Anyway, we're walking and we're walking and-- okay, so you've got this cement walkway that runs under the bridge (about halfway out, leaving enough room for boats to pass under the bridge). And there are these enormous cement supports that are... yes, supporting the bridge. These supports (which, to reiterate, were HUGE) have four sides to them, and about ten feet above the water line, the support widens about five feet on all four sides, creating a sort of ledge.
And as we're walking, I saw a man standing on this ledge, fishing. He... also appeared to be talking to himself, and there was what looked like a sleeping bag rolled up next to him. And I felt that pang of "Aw, man" you feel in a situation like that. I assume everyone knows the little twinge. Then, as we passed, I glanced over my shoulder and saw that it wasn't a sleeping bag at all, but a woman curled up on her side, sleeping, and... yeah. Another pang. Weirdly, I almost felt as if I was... intruding?
And then, out of nowhere, Tora whacks my arm and says in a very low, urgent voice: "Turn around and walk."
I, being reasonably quick on the uptake, did just that.
"Keep walking," he said, also quietly. "Don't look. Just keep walking."
So as I'm walking -- quickly, I might add, to keep up with George (who ALWAYS complains to me about my death-march pace and long-legged strides) -- I'm wondering what his damage is. As unfortunate as it is, it wouldn't be the first time we've seen a homeless person, and it's really not necessary for him to wig out like that.
"Did you see that?" he asked me, when we were out of earshot.
"Yeah, I think they were homeless."
Insert long pause wherein my darling husband gives me a look that... is not easily articulated (but I like to refer to it as his "Oh my god, you're supposed to be smart" look). "He had a gun, Kara."
".......A gun?"
"In the waistband of his pants."
Insert a longer pause wherein I walk faster.
Evidently he hadn't been talking to himself, as I'd thought, but had instead been talking on a cell phone.
...
So... yeah. I still don't even know what to make of any of that, but let it be said there is NEVER A DULL MOMENT with us.
So! Three days a week I'm walking about four miles a day. Go me! And I assume someday I will stop being completely exhausted all the time. Today is not that day.
However, never let it be said that our workout regimen is without excitement. Yesterday, we went over the causeway, like we do, and on the return trip we noticed that there's a walkway that actually runs under the bridge. So we, being the inquisitive-type people we are, took a walk along this walkway. Under the bridge.
It was quite obviously a hotspot for fishing types, given all the... fish guts (oh, the aroma), and there were empty beer bottles and discarded bits of fishing line, and the whole "walking under the bridge" thing seemed like a much better idea when I hadn't considered the olfactory aspect of it. Needless to say: gross.
Anyway, we're walking and we're walking and-- okay, so you've got this cement walkway that runs under the bridge (about halfway out, leaving enough room for boats to pass under the bridge). And there are these enormous cement supports that are... yes, supporting the bridge. These supports (which, to reiterate, were HUGE) have four sides to them, and about ten feet above the water line, the support widens about five feet on all four sides, creating a sort of ledge.
And as we're walking, I saw a man standing on this ledge, fishing. He... also appeared to be talking to himself, and there was what looked like a sleeping bag rolled up next to him. And I felt that pang of "Aw, man" you feel in a situation like that. I assume everyone knows the little twinge. Then, as we passed, I glanced over my shoulder and saw that it wasn't a sleeping bag at all, but a woman curled up on her side, sleeping, and... yeah. Another pang. Weirdly, I almost felt as if I was... intruding?
And then, out of nowhere, Tora whacks my arm and says in a very low, urgent voice: "Turn around and walk."
I, being reasonably quick on the uptake, did just that.
"Keep walking," he said, also quietly. "Don't look. Just keep walking."
So as I'm walking -- quickly, I might add, to keep up with George (who ALWAYS complains to me about my death-march pace and long-legged strides) -- I'm wondering what his damage is. As unfortunate as it is, it wouldn't be the first time we've seen a homeless person, and it's really not necessary for him to wig out like that.
"Did you see that?" he asked me, when we were out of earshot.
"Yeah, I think they were homeless."
Insert long pause wherein my darling husband gives me a look that... is not easily articulated (but I like to refer to it as his "Oh my god, you're supposed to be smart" look). "He had a gun, Kara."
".......A gun?"
"In the waistband of his pants."
Insert a longer pause wherein I walk faster.
Evidently he hadn't been talking to himself, as I'd thought, but had instead been talking on a cell phone.
...
So... yeah. I still don't even know what to make of any of that, but let it be said there is NEVER A DULL MOMENT with us.
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So why was Tora scared of the guy with the gun and cell phone?
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In the event that you're not... well, I think it's a good sign of a functioning self-preservation instinct when you want to get away from the skeevy looking guy with a gun tucked in his pants. The cell phone aspect of it was just weird (if he was indeed homeless). (He also had a set of fileting knives laid out on the ledge, which would have been incredibly creepy had he not been fishing.)
We both admit that the entire situation could have been entirely benign. We're not sure HOW, but there is that remote possibility.
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...oooooh, so he did still look unstable.
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Holy crap, I'm glad he noticed that. I would have been like, "WHAT'S WRONG?" Because I'm bright like that.
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A little detail like a GUN WEDGED IN THE GUY'S WAISTBAND KIND OF ESCAPED ME.
Seriously, he told me and it was everything I could do NOT to turn around and look.
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I really wonder about my brain sometimes.
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Clearly you and Tora were both in imminent danger of a Jaws IV-style psychic-sentient Great White attack.
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But I prefer not to give those too much thought.
By the way, girl, are you EVER going to ring me? No excuses now that you've sent Meph2 off. :D I still want to hear you squee about EVERYTHING.
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Nails are being bitten to an extraordinary degree, I can tell you.
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