Oh, the places you'll go!

[wordinista]

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.

Comments

[w0rdinista.livejournal.com]

DUDE, IT WAS SO SURREAL. I mean, I could have told you a whole slew of DIFFERENT details about the scene. I noticed he was a little heavyset, with a shaved bald head, a dirty white t-shirt, and scruffy tan shorts (that were a bit on the long side); he was either barefoot or in really beat-up flip-flops, and was smoking a dark brown cigarillo-type cigarette, with the cell phone wedged to his ear with his left shoulder (which explains why I didn't see it initially, given my angle). I could tell you the woman was curled up on her right side, she was wearing a kind of pastel-splotch shirt (could have been flowers -- almost looked like she was wearing those wacky-print scrubs the technicians wear in vet or dental offices), and beige bedroom slippers.

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.

[everstar3.livejournal.com]

LOL, I would have been the same way. "REALLY? I missed it, I wanna look." Which, you know, BAD IDEA. "Hey, mister, are you trying to shoot the fish? They're not in a barrel!"

I really wonder about my brain sometimes.