mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dollar Dollar Bill Y'all! This morning I got up at 5:35 AM and headed off to the gym. I do this most every weekday morning and although it sucks, I know it's the only way I'll actually get my running/working out in. Post-work is not a possibility. I have social engagements and chores and Survivor and the Swan and ...... well you get the point. So I should probably let you know that I don't do much in regard to getting ready for the gym. I climb out of bed, brush my teeth, and put on sneakers. I don't even wash my face. I just jump in the car and go. If I were being 100% honest with you, I might admit that I'm not completely awake some mornings. Luckily the drive is a straight shot that takes less than five minutes and I am usually the only one on the road but this morning, well this morning was a bit different. You see, there is a four way stop right before the gym. This morning as I approached that stop, I failed to apply the break. As a matter of fact, I cruised right through it. Now I know what you're thinking. You're wondering who or what I hit, right? Fear not, I am unscathed as is the vehicle and all those around me but I did cut this guy in a huge white SUV off. He honked at me and knowing I was in the wrong I raised my hand sheepishly in his direction. I believe this gesture is the universal symbol for "You're right sir, that was a crummy move. I'm very sorry." Apparently SUV guy does not understand sign language though because he immediately began tailing me. I pulled into the lot of the gym only to notice for the very first time in the six months that I've been going there that it's very poorly lit. Rather than stop and risk harm I continued through the lot and back out on the street but SUV guy kept on me. He followed me through the lot again and I made the decision to actually park real close to the entrance and make a run for it. SUV guy pulled up behind me and blocked me in. He then pulled out a pad and made a huge production of scribbling down my license plate number and driving off in a huff. Now I totally understand the particular driving maneuver I pulled this morning sucked. It was a mistake, a human error. I should have been paying better attention and I will be more careful in the future but ferchrissakes! Did this guy really have to follow me like that? It was dark and there was no one on the streets and I am a tiny little woman in running shorts and a t-shirt with absolutely no weapons of defense. Did this guy not realize how threatening it is to be chased like that in the wee hours of the AM? I had no idea what he was planning to do. He could have been preparing to really cause me some harm, in fact I totally thought he was. I was relieved when all he did was take down my license plate and sped off because for a few moments I was certain I was going to be toast. Then I was just angry. What a fucking asshole! What's he going to do with my license? Make a citizens arrest? I dare that S.O.B. to come to my door and try it because I'm going to be prepared and waiting for his stupid self to arrive. I've got the mace perched right there waiting to blast him. Come on you threatening bastard! I'll teach you not to mess with me. Umm, I guess what I am saying is maybe you shouldn't drop by unannounced for the next couple of days..... I had a fantastic revelation the other day while I was in the supermarket that I thought I'd share. I CAN BUY ANYTHING I WANT AT THE SUPERMARKET! I know what you're thinking - "Well duh, of course you can buy anything you want. Why couldn't you buy anything you want?" Let me try and explain this a little better. Back in the day, but not all that long ago, I was piss poor. I made roughly enough to pay my monthly rent and have $40.00 left over for every other expense including feeding myself. Yes, that's right $40.00 per month for food and bills and of course, generic cigarettes because back in those days I loved me some tobacco. Anyway, it wasn't quite as bad as it sounds because my then roommate was in a similar situation and we made a fun game out of our poverty. How can you make being poor fun, you ask. Well you can't but saying that we did makes it sound like a better time so I'll go with that. Anywho, my roommate and I did come up with a few rules for living as po' ass folk. There were the basics like always making nice with the band or the bouncer at the club so you could get your ass in to see some live entertainment and always call immediate family members collect because you knew they'll accept the charge. There were more elaborate and painful ways to keep our heads above water too like walking miles upon miles to get to work or school rather than wasting a buck on the bus. And even more depressing avenues for getting the revenue flowing like selling old CD's that you treasured for a fraction of their cost because you desperately needed the gas company not shut off your heat in December in the friggin' Northeast. So yeah, we had our ways of getting by. The most important fiscal rule we had involved the supermarket and our weekly grocery outing. The policy was this, NO ITEM THAT COST OVER A DOLLAR CAN BE ADDED TO THE CART, NO MATTER WHAT. It's true, for many years you could not find any food substance in my apartment that would retail for more than a buck. With our combined budget of $20.00 per week and by sticking to our "UNDER A DOLLAR" rule we would have at least twenty products available to us for the week and usually more (anything that was three or four for a dollar was in our basket before you could blink). Sadly, all of these foodstuffs sucked the big one but we made due and smoked enough cheap, pesticide filled tobacco to dull our tastebuds. As I grew older and got a real job, I began to spend more money on food but the process was very slow going. You see, I had convinced myself that good food was a luxury item (booze of course was a necessity) and not a vital part of retaining my health. I think I upped the ante to $1.50 per product and then $1.75 over the course of three years. It took five years to reach the three dollar mark and even then I felt horribly guilty. $3.00 for cheese?!!! I could just get a whole block of cheese-like product for a $1.29 and I'd have lunch for a month. Perhaps this was my depression era Grandmother whispering in my ear. Who knows? Anyway, I realized on Monday afternoon as I stood in Ballard Market that not one of the items I had in my basket cost less than $1.00 and they almost all bore brand names! An organic pineapple, a six pack of Maritime Pacific, a bottle of Shiraz, smoked salmon, sun dried tomatoes, a pint of peanut butter fudge ice cream, a free range chicken, and two black cod steaks. Not one of those items fell into my former budget but you know what? Everyone of those items beat the crap out of Ramen Pride or Jiffy Muffins or generic ice tea mix. And you know what else? I didn't feel even a tinge of guilt about the bill, not at all. This my friends is a major breakthrough for a gal who periodically walks off with rolls of t.p. from public bathrooms to save the cash she'd spend on it at the store. 3:18 p.m. - 2004-04-20 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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