Tuesday, 30 August 2011

Gobble, gobble

Just returned from said run. Feeling much better. I managed half an hour - at varying speeds it has to be said - but I did it.

Couple of things: middle of the afternoon in what is STILL apparently the interminable school holidays not the best time for a run, unless being watched by assorted feral children is your thing.

Secondly, as I live in the middle of town I have to run actually in town. You know, past shoppers, ex colleagues, friends and occasionally ex boyfriends. I manage most of the time to focus away from this and comfort myself with the thought that they wish they were running. Yeah, they look at me with envy. Not poorly concealed pity. Nooo, not that, as they look at my sweat drenched maroon face.

Anyway, i was sprinting back to my house (I like to keep up a fast pace in the middle of town to convince people that I have been running like that all along. I'm fully aware they don't give a shit either way, but it makes me feel I have a purpose) and an old codger kindly (or so I thought) stepped aside so I could get past.

As I ran past him I was thinking that he was probably thinking that he wishes he could run still (he had a walking stick) and it made me appreciate my ability even more. Until he said, right into my face: "gobble, gobble".

As is my wont when someone says something to me that I'm pretty sure is offensive but I can't really work out why, I struggled to assimilate this phrase. But I'm still at a loss.

As far as I see it, there are a finite number of options here:

1. He thinks I look like a turkey because of my red face
2. I'm running like a turkey
3. I was previously unaware that I have a massive dewlap under my chin that makes me look like a turkey
4. He's just watched Gigli and its sex scene.

The last thought made me stop thinking about this.

Old people suck though. Show me a nice old person and I'll show you a tolerant pope.

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