You: Older gentleman in business casual, liquor on breath, sense of self worth fueled by demeaning other people
Me: Diminutive girl with light purple bike, grey helmet, still hopeful, heart hurting
I shouted at you and your friends to get out of the bike lane and was met by a chorus of jeers. I turned around, got off my bike, and politely asked that you and your friends and your wife, who was holding your beautiful, sleepy tow-headed child, if you could move your conversation from the bike lane to the sidewalk so other people on bikes wouldn't have to swerve around you into traffic, and so you wouldn't be at risk of getting hit by a less attentive cyclist.
I said please and thank you. I called you sir. You called me an entitled bitch and told me the world would be a better place without me and people like me.
Your friends laughed while tears of shame and anger burned in my eyes.
Your wife smiled and shrugged when you told me you hoped I got hit by a semi and splattered all over the street.
You told me that pedestrians have the right of way no matter what*, and that I was wrong, and that I would get what was coming to me.
Your child looked at me with big, round, curious eyes, and began the lifelong process of learning how to treat other humans like garbage.
I hope you wake up tomorrow in your comfortable bed, a slight hangover creeping into your graying temples. I hope that you feel gravity wearing on your bones, every step to your bathroom sink a shuffling chore, the repetition, the mundanity of your life exhausting from the moment you wake up. I hope you splash your face with cool water and look into the mirror, bleary, and see your reflection, and see yourself as I saw you, your entitlement, your brazen lack of empathy, your inability to consider the implication of your actions. I hope your son clings to your leg, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and begs you to give him a horsey ride even though now he is getting too big. I hope that you feel a pang of regret, even just a twinge, thinking about his bearing silent witness to your verbal abuse of a stranger.
I hope you tell him to try his best to be nice to people, even when they aren't always nice back, just like my father told me.
I hope he listens.
* Chicago municipal code:
9-60-050 Pedestrian to yield right-of-way when.
(a) Every pedestrian crossing a roadway at any point other than within a marked crosswalk shall yield the right-of-way to all vehicles upon the roadway.
9-60-060 Pedestrian crossing.
(a) No pedestrian shall cross a roadway at any place other than by a route at right angles to the curb or by the shortest route to the opposite curb except in a marked crosswalk.
(b) No pedestrian shall suddenly leave a curb or other place of safety and walk or run into the path of a vehicle which is so close that it is impossible for the driver to yield.
9-60-120 Pedestrians to exercise due care.
Nothing in this chapter shall relieve a pedestrian from the duty of exercising due care [the conduct that a reasonable man or woman will exercise in a particular situation, in looking out for the safety of others].
I've got bad feet. Only used them twice. In excellent condition. Like new blk. working boots for ONLY $20.00. PLUS I'm giving you 3 BONUSES: Like New Barbie Princess Styling Head. Excellent for a small girl. And also as a bonus: Needle point Jewellery Kit for small girl. And A New Microwave Extention Cord. You can move your microwave anywhere in the kitchen. That's a great deal. The boots are size 13.
I'm looking for that special someone who will share my passion for toast, all kinds of toast -- white toast, whole-wheat toast, rye toast, toasted bagels (and when I'm feeling wild and crazy, a Pop Tart.) To me, toast is the ultimate turn-on. There is nothing like a man who smells like toast! I picture us sitting on a couch in front of my sixty toasters, getting nice and toasty, sipping brandy from glasses with croutons floating in them, talking endlessly about the splendors of toast. Perhaps one day you will ask me to spread butter and jam on your body. Or cream cheese -- I'm not particular. Are you that special man?
I need a sword. Something large, of fine craftsmanship and sturdy. Must be able to cleave a moose in half with one to two blows. This is extremely important. I need to arm for my time machine and i cant bring a gun to where im going, i dont want to give myself away as a time traveler and i have to fit in. I would prefer something from the renaissance period, as i am trying to save king louis VIII from bring executed. If all goes as planned, the present will change and i hope you all enjoy not having france a part of this planet anymore. Youre welcome in advance.
My wife is terribly dangerous in the kitchen. She cross-contaminates raw meat with other things constantly, takes dirty knives out of the sink to cut fruit for our children, refuses to wash produce from our urban garden or the grocery store before serving it, and refuses to use any kind of covering on food that is placed in the refrigerator. She has no normal sense of what is safe or appropriate.
While I have tried to point out to her that this is all extremely dangerous, she:
1. Is strong-willed and absolutely convinced that these things are not problems.
2. Notes that her mother does the same stuff and that she was trained in lab work by a Nobel Laureate (?!)
3. Believes she does not get sick and when she does, blames anything or anyone else.
As such, I would like to enlist someone's help to assemble and lead a team to convince my wife that she is on a reality show about dangerous kitchen behavior (title of show: TBD). You and I will work together to plan a script and you will produce. I am imagining that it goes something like this:
One weekend morning, there is a knock at the door.
Your team comes in, perhaps a host, a doctor, a scientist, and a cleaning expert, along with an authentic looking shooting crew (at least two professional looking cameras, a sound person, a director, and lighting person) You ambush her and tell her she's on a reality show about the most dangerous cooks or whatever, that you've been secretly filming her in the kitchen for the past month (you know how this part goes)... Then you show her the secret footage (which I have captured and which you will have edited).
The scientist, doctor, and cleaning person should all say appropriate reality show things like "in my entire career, I've never seen anything this dangerous...." etc. All reality show cliches welcome.
Then you will stage some kind of intervention in the kitchen, showing (and filming) how to clean with soap and water, how to wash a cutting board after cutting raw chicken, etc.
Then you will leave telling her that the episode is not yet scheduled to air, but probably sometime next year.
There will be no reveal. You will not tell her this was fake and I will not tell her this was fake - ever. We will be "waiting for it to air" for a year or so and then we will conclude that the show didn't get picked up, etc. My hope is that my leaving it all hanging, the impact on her behavior will be more severe.
The ideal candidate will have some film/tv experience, access to friends who can play these parts, and ideally access to the camera/lighting equipment for free or cheap to reduce the costs of this endeavor. Note that none of this equipment needs to be functional - there is no need to record any of this.
To apply, please send a brief treatment of your vision for this production and how you would staff and execute it, along with an initial rough budget. I will select the top proposals for in-person discussions.
I look forward to working with you and I thank you in advance for helping to protect my family from food borne illnesses and pesticides.
I was performing a magic trick that was going to make a 5 dollar bill appear in my buddy's wallet. I already owed him some money from when my last magic trick accidentally knocked one of his tooth out. So at least I knew if I did this trick right, I'd owe him $5 less than I already did for dental bills.
Here's the problem: The cash didn't end up in his wallet -- It ended up in one of yours instead. I did some investigating and it turns out the fiver ended up in the wallet of someone in the New York area. Not only did my trick fail but I'm also out $5 now which is a lot of money for an amateur magician in this economy.
Please check your wallet to see if you have an extra $5. If so it's probably mine. Maybe you've had a couple of drinks and aren't sure how many 5 dollar bills you had to begin with. Again, it's probably mine so before you sober up and have to deal with the shame and guilt of not doing the right thing immediately, you'll want to mail it to :
And after I receive my $5, I will not ask any questions about how or why you intercepted my magic trick
I need someone to cross the inky blackness of space and crawl inside my craters. Real explorers only, please. An astronaut needs to hold his breath for 120 seconds -- hint, hint -- and subject themselves to rigourous training, both in theory and in practice. Orbit me. Orbit me for a month, or even just one night. It's been a while, so I'm looking for some groundbreaking missions. I need you to fall into my gravity well. I need you to make me scream "One small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind!" D/d free, you should be too. Althought I'm not opposed to orbiting at 420 feet.
I have two smallish container ponds on my deck that could use some maintenance workers (I like to think of them like the guys at the apartment complex that come around and keep things tidy)
I heard trap door snails are the best at this (I think they're certified and college educated in waste management) and can live outside year round (hearty and strong like Alaskan men!Don't be gettin cold or nothin)
I found a place online where I can order them but you have to order them by the dozen (like day workers they like to get their friends a job too!!) But I only need like three or four...
Also I hear they reproduce rather quickly (see previous reference to Alaskan men...) and quite frankly I don't want that going on in front of the fish, they've been carefully selected so as to not have little fishies.... I think it's cruel... The snails be playin Marvin Gaye.... breakin out the wine coolers but.... None for you fish!!!.... Harsh.
So if you have some hard workers looking for new digs please let me know... I'll give them free room and board and all the algae they can stomach (do they have stomachs? I've never asked.... seemed forward)
Preferably close to Olympia as I hear they are terrible back seat drivers and hate long drives.