my west side story...
just a little randomness to impart...
so, i'm really a fish out of water in the water with this whole city desk thing at the post-standard. you see, i'm used to reporting in the suburbs. the nice, safe suburbs where people shake your hand and talk to you and don't give you funny looks when you drive by in your car.
you see, reporting in the city is much, much different. me and my business casual just stick out like a sore thumb when i head into the inner-city neighborhoods trying to interview people. i look like a sorority girl in comparison to my story subjects, and that makes things interesting.
take last thursday. i'm working this little community garden story on the west side. as i'm driving back, i pull up to a light, preparing to take a left. i, of course, am be-bopping to my music in the topaz like i always do. i look right for some reason, and a carful of boys pulls up alongside me. the driver catches my eye, and motions for me to roll down the window.
here's mistake number one - i do. they look harmless enough. i now know that i should never do things like this, as evidenced by the subsequent occurrence and the countless reprimandings that just about everyone i know has duly doled out.
so, as i roll down the window, the driver starts to speak. i can't understand him, so i turn down my music (yes, it was blaring as always...some things never change), and ask him to repeat himself.
"my buddy wants to know if you're spoken for."
i'm flabberghasted. getting hit on right there in the middle of shonnard street. after pulling my jaw up from my lap, i notice that the light has turned green, allowing me an easy out. i smile, yell "yes" and peel out of there. the gentlemen proceed to take their right, and i am left laughing hysterically at the randomness of the situation. i got a laugh out of it, as did my editor, the reporters in the newsroom, and everyone i've told since.
the whole incident made me stop and think though. perhaps chivalry is not dead. it is seemingly alive and well on the west side, since that's about the nicest pick-up line i've gotten in quite some time. "are you spoken for?" much better than "yo girl..." or "dumps like a truck."
perhaps there is hope for all of us in this crazy world. not my knight in shining armor by a longshot, but you won't find me complaining.
so, i'm really a fish out of water in the water with this whole city desk thing at the post-standard. you see, i'm used to reporting in the suburbs. the nice, safe suburbs where people shake your hand and talk to you and don't give you funny looks when you drive by in your car.
you see, reporting in the city is much, much different. me and my business casual just stick out like a sore thumb when i head into the inner-city neighborhoods trying to interview people. i look like a sorority girl in comparison to my story subjects, and that makes things interesting.
take last thursday. i'm working this little community garden story on the west side. as i'm driving back, i pull up to a light, preparing to take a left. i, of course, am be-bopping to my music in the topaz like i always do. i look right for some reason, and a carful of boys pulls up alongside me. the driver catches my eye, and motions for me to roll down the window.
here's mistake number one - i do. they look harmless enough. i now know that i should never do things like this, as evidenced by the subsequent occurrence and the countless reprimandings that just about everyone i know has duly doled out.
so, as i roll down the window, the driver starts to speak. i can't understand him, so i turn down my music (yes, it was blaring as always...some things never change), and ask him to repeat himself.
"my buddy wants to know if you're spoken for."
i'm flabberghasted. getting hit on right there in the middle of shonnard street. after pulling my jaw up from my lap, i notice that the light has turned green, allowing me an easy out. i smile, yell "yes" and peel out of there. the gentlemen proceed to take their right, and i am left laughing hysterically at the randomness of the situation. i got a laugh out of it, as did my editor, the reporters in the newsroom, and everyone i've told since.
the whole incident made me stop and think though. perhaps chivalry is not dead. it is seemingly alive and well on the west side, since that's about the nicest pick-up line i've gotten in quite some time. "are you spoken for?" much better than "yo girl..." or "dumps like a truck."
perhaps there is hope for all of us in this crazy world. not my knight in shining armor by a longshot, but you won't find me complaining.