Blessings in Disguise.
So today, I woke up and was planning to head out for my usual breakfast routine of coffee and reading. Step out to my driveway and find my car has a flat tire. Bollocks.
I head back inside, knowing I have enough leftover pizza to feed me through the day, and find myself immediately pestered on IM by a teenager asking for hints on an online game. His inability to learn anything on his own was quite irksome, so I blocked him. However that irking inspired me to not sit at my computer and eat reheated pizza, postponing my need to fix the tire. For one I decided against my natural tendency for procrastination. So I gathered up my book which is still "Even Cowgirls Get the Blues" (excellent) and set out to wandering north along alternate 19 hoping to catch an excellent brunch at Fritz's Restaurant. Alas, I neglected to check the time before I left. When I got there and found it closed, I checked. 3:30 pm. Long after they close on a normal day, and long long after their early close on Sunday, which if I had any grasp on time I would have realized. I've detatched myself from clocks these days it seems, I wish I could say it was a purposeful attack on the over-scheduled nature of our society. It isn't, I'm just spacy. I was still hungry, though and still needed to get something for my tire. While I could walk back home, and stop by a gas station on the way, I decided to walk another 1/4 mile to sunset point, and get my flat fixer there, and if I recalled correctly there was maybe some sort of restaurant there.
I arrived at the gas station, only being solicited by one crackhead for money, purchased myself some gatorade ice to replenish my liquids (clear, so as not to stain the teeth), and asked the clerk if there was a nearby restaurant. He says, in a thick accent, a half mile north is a restaurant called "Donita", I don't recall ever having passed it, but it sounded like an opportunity for a new experience, and I'd already come that far, may as well journey onwards. After about a mile, I realized he probably meant "Dunedin", which is the next town up that way, but by that time I was closer to Dunedin that I was to home, so I ended up walking all the way to downtown Dunedin and ate myself a delicious "Beef Ridiculous" at Kelly's For Just About Anything (excellent sandwich, there, and a recommended culinary treat for any readers who may be visiting Dunedin, FL) drank a lot of water there, read some magnificent philosophizing and word play of Tom Robbins' while I waited for that massive sandwich to settle. Left my tip, and set off down the road.
Perhaps it was inspired by my book, perhaps it was inspired by the fact that my right leg seems to be developing problems, exacerbated by long walks. I decided to try and hitchhike back, so I kept my thumb out the entire journey back. Was passed by countless cars, wearing jesus bumper stickers like they're a parking pass to heaven. I saluted them as they passed without slowing, to show respect for their exemplifying Jesus' humanitarian virtues. "Way to be good Samaritan, brother/sister" I would call after them with a touch of bitterness, but more pity... Hippies, punkers, cranky commuters, retirees, patriots, one and all they left me to limp my way down the road. I suppose I can't be too judgemental, after all, my experience with hitchhikers in that general area weren't the best, a lot of crackheads and alcoholics, not really looking for a ride so much as looking for the opportunity to try and sponge more than in passing. But I still pick up every hitchhiker I can if traffic and my direction allow. Anyway, no rides for me, perhaps I look shadier than I imagine. Perhaps my plastic bag containing my fix-a-flat, book, and gatorade-bottle-o-water made me look like a vagrant. No one even slowed... a few passengers thumbed back at me, as if in mockery, and one man in a red sports car blared his horn as he past.
Regardless of the return journey's tribulations, I made it back home safely, and the sunshine and physical activity has made me feel much better than I have in several days. So a flat tire, misdirection, and irksome hint-grubbers ended up being a blessing in the long run.
In other news, I find myself very pleased to be appreciated. It's been a long long time since someone's made me feel special and important, and I've missed it, and I am grateful to be able to feel that again.
I head back inside, knowing I have enough leftover pizza to feed me through the day, and find myself immediately pestered on IM by a teenager asking for hints on an online game. His inability to learn anything on his own was quite irksome, so I blocked him. However that irking inspired me to not sit at my computer and eat reheated pizza, postponing my need to fix the tire. For one I decided against my natural tendency for procrastination. So I gathered up my book which is still "Even Cowgirls Get the Blues" (excellent) and set out to wandering north along alternate 19 hoping to catch an excellent brunch at Fritz's Restaurant. Alas, I neglected to check the time before I left. When I got there and found it closed, I checked. 3:30 pm. Long after they close on a normal day, and long long after their early close on Sunday, which if I had any grasp on time I would have realized. I've detatched myself from clocks these days it seems, I wish I could say it was a purposeful attack on the over-scheduled nature of our society. It isn't, I'm just spacy. I was still hungry, though and still needed to get something for my tire. While I could walk back home, and stop by a gas station on the way, I decided to walk another 1/4 mile to sunset point, and get my flat fixer there, and if I recalled correctly there was maybe some sort of restaurant there.
I arrived at the gas station, only being solicited by one crackhead for money, purchased myself some gatorade ice to replenish my liquids (clear, so as not to stain the teeth), and asked the clerk if there was a nearby restaurant. He says, in a thick accent, a half mile north is a restaurant called "Donita", I don't recall ever having passed it, but it sounded like an opportunity for a new experience, and I'd already come that far, may as well journey onwards. After about a mile, I realized he probably meant "Dunedin", which is the next town up that way, but by that time I was closer to Dunedin that I was to home, so I ended up walking all the way to downtown Dunedin and ate myself a delicious "Beef Ridiculous" at Kelly's For Just About Anything (excellent sandwich, there, and a recommended culinary treat for any readers who may be visiting Dunedin, FL) drank a lot of water there, read some magnificent philosophizing and word play of Tom Robbins' while I waited for that massive sandwich to settle. Left my tip, and set off down the road.
Perhaps it was inspired by my book, perhaps it was inspired by the fact that my right leg seems to be developing problems, exacerbated by long walks. I decided to try and hitchhike back, so I kept my thumb out the entire journey back. Was passed by countless cars, wearing jesus bumper stickers like they're a parking pass to heaven. I saluted them as they passed without slowing, to show respect for their exemplifying Jesus' humanitarian virtues. "Way to be good Samaritan, brother/sister" I would call after them with a touch of bitterness, but more pity... Hippies, punkers, cranky commuters, retirees, patriots, one and all they left me to limp my way down the road. I suppose I can't be too judgemental, after all, my experience with hitchhikers in that general area weren't the best, a lot of crackheads and alcoholics, not really looking for a ride so much as looking for the opportunity to try and sponge more than in passing. But I still pick up every hitchhiker I can if traffic and my direction allow. Anyway, no rides for me, perhaps I look shadier than I imagine. Perhaps my plastic bag containing my fix-a-flat, book, and gatorade-bottle-o-water made me look like a vagrant. No one even slowed... a few passengers thumbed back at me, as if in mockery, and one man in a red sports car blared his horn as he past.
Regardless of the return journey's tribulations, I made it back home safely, and the sunshine and physical activity has made me feel much better than I have in several days. So a flat tire, misdirection, and irksome hint-grubbers ended up being a blessing in the long run.
In other news, I find myself very pleased to be appreciated. It's been a long long time since someone's made me feel special and important, and I've missed it, and I am grateful to be able to feel that again.