Sunday, September 18, 2016

Some Days You're the Weirdo, Some Days You're the Magnet

Yesterday, on the way home from town (you KNOW why I went there), I stopped to take a picture. We had a blast of rain the previous evening. The waters had receded, but not without bending a warning marker on the oft-flooded low water bridge.

If you look closely, you can see the rooty tree trunk that took out the marker. And to the left of it, there's a tire mired in the newly-deposited sand. Those county road workers better come back soon, because that's going to give ne'er-do-wells a place to park, right in front of those NO PARKING/NO DUMPING signs.

Being a law-abiding, most-o'-the-time-do-well, Val did not pull over in that forbidden zone, but instead waited until she was going the opposite direction, and stopped right in the road. Oh, come on! I pulled over to the edge. I had my blinker on. There was plenty of room for cars to get by me. Besides, there was a truck coming from the other direction anyway, and I did the friendly thing by allowing him to cross. Two cars can pass on that bridge, but I don't recommend it. Nobody who lives out here tries to double-cross.

While I was sitting there, phone in hand, emailing a picture to myself, because down here in the bottom, I had FOUR BARS, while at my homestead on the top of the hill, I have ZERO. I looked in my mirror, and saw a silver pickup truck approaching. I didn't worry, because I was off to the side, with my signal on, clearly stopped, with room for him to go around. Wouldn't you know it? That silver truck pulled up alongside me.

The passenger window went down. Inside was a late-twenty-something dude in a gray T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, wearing mirrored sunglasses. "Y'alright?"

"Oh, yes. I was just taking a picture. Thank you, though!"

"No problem." Off he went across the bridge.

That's the thing about living in Outer Backroadsia. Folks can be as annoying as all get-out, appropriating other people's property for impromptu parties, taking a whiz, dumping their old furniture (or portable meth labs), letting their dogs crap, or just generally being suspicious. But if there's a chance you might need help, they're always willing to lend a hand.

Some days you're the weirdo, some days you're the magnet.


  1. Some days you're the weirdo, some days you're the magnet.

    So veeeeeery true!!!!

  2. Replies
    1. And sometimes they want to give you back!

  3. There are some good people who will help when you need it.

  4. Replies
    1. I guess that's up to my would-be "helper" to decide.

  5. And in the case of Linda O'Connell, sometimes she's the weirdo magnet.

  6. Sioux is right on the money. I was in a buffet line when a woman came behind me and said, "I'm going to sit my happy butt down." She plopped on the floor behind me.

    I'm thinking Val, you are bragging about a guy who had his eye on you. Hick might get jealous.

    1. At least she had a happy butt!

      Nobody has their eye on me. Not since that lady followed me through Save A Lot saying I was SO PRETTY!

  7. I've always assumed I was the magnet but I'm not sure all my neighbours would agree with me ...

    1. Having read about your neighbors, I would say you are DEFINITELY the magnet!