No. 6

Today I’m guessing was a scorcher but I wouldn’t know because my four-cylinder engine and me were stuck on raw black top for the duration of five hours. I live about 35 miles away from where I collect a paycheck and I have turned sour. My brain aches just thinking of being in a rolling sardine can on the congested interstate struggling to see the nearing exit sign. I have picked my nose and combed my fingers through my hair (not one after the other), listened to the repeat of NPR programming, blasted Credence songs while rocking my upper body in short spasms, made large bubbles out of gum, scratched my forearms incessantly, made fun of neighboring drivers and in the end I keep recalling this image I made two summers ago while on assignment. The Buena Vista neighborhood greeted me like no other and I affectionately laugh every time I have a flashback of that moment. At first glance the kid looks like a girl, but as I tried picking her up after falling off the same trike she mounts, he flicked me off and peddled away. I guess I was wrong to assume that pink and purple big wheels screamed GIRL. Lesson learned: Do not judge a book by its cover. So, with no delay I share with you what I often see as mockery. “They’re all gonna laugh at me” and yes hun they do.