Gather around.
It’s embarrassing story time.
Oh yes, so basically, I’m just tired of reading about Kavanaugh and all the stupid lemmings who can’t see a political smear campaign for what it is. The same ones who are tweeting #BelieveSurvivors and not #BelieveDueProcess. Thus, I figured I’d just post something mildly humorous instead of dealing with the foolish masses.
BTW – What exactly does a walk out do? What are you demonstrating? That you don’t want to do your job? Or learn? Because pretty sure, it’s just a meaningless gesture. The world still turns, even though you stand outside under the sky, howling your rage at whatever ridiculousness you misunderstand.
“Oh look at me, I’m going to protest the injustices of the world by going outside and escaping my responsibilities for a few minutes!”
Pfft… What bravery… it’s a glorified smoke break.
But I digress…
Once upon a time, six months ago or so, I went to the gym.
Like I do five or six days a week.
Because I need a big body to defend my big mouth.
At the gym, there’s a large parking lot, steps leading into a smaller parking area and a single, one-way lane for cars to drive around. On the other side of the single lane, is a concrete entrance way to the gym, and a cage for children to the immediate right.
Well, a playground. Same thing.
I’m diddy-bopping along, minding my own business. Probably shaking my BlenderBottle full of protein powder and water. Getting myself mentally psyched to go pick heavy things up and put them back down again, over and over.
I park, walk up the steps and as I cross the single lane road, a large ball bounces towards me. It was sort of like an inflatable beach ball. I bravely grab it… before a car comes along later and runs it over, or worse, it rolls into the parking lot and under a vehicle.
Little kids cheer. The watchful moms leaning on the fence smile, probably happy that they didn’t have to chase it. (Or because I was showing a lot of leg in my gym shorts.)
Walking triumphantly by the kiddie-cage, I give a big grin, like the hero I am… and chuck the ball in… underhanded.
It bounces and smacks a toddler in the face.
Poor kid goes sprawling backwards into the mulch and immediately begins howling, crying, snotting…
All that happiness that was radiating towards me… just… evaporates.
It got quiet, real quiet.
Everyone is in shock. They are either staring at the crying child, or at me in abject horror, as the ball rolls away. Even the kids swinging on the swings stop to stare.
Everyone… except for the one mom frantically fighting the kiddie-cage lock to get to her… based off everyone’s reactions… mortally wounded child.
I just keep walking inside the gym, trying to not make eye contact. Because I had no idea what to say. I don’t think there are words for such moments.
Then I hid in the bathroom.
Okay, not really. I just worked out longer than normal, hoping everyone would be gone by the time I left. I didn’t want to get worked over in the parking lot by a mob of angry moms.
In the end, everyone was just fine.
I think. I don’t know what happened to that kid. But he looked okay as I walked on by.
Just thought I’d share that today.
Gunpowder and Ink! 