This really happened. I bullshit you not.
Earlier this week, I was in the â€œBay Areaâ€ of California. Coming from the East Coast, my body clocks woke me up at 4:30 a.m. Knowing that I had to begin the adjustment process, I forced myself to remain horizontal for another hour or so.
By about six oâ€™clock in the morning (Pacific Time), I decided that I couldnâ€™t take it any more, so I got my sorry ass out of bed to do my morning walk. The temperature was in the mid to high thirties, which is downright balmy as far as I am concerned.
As such, I put on a pair of shorts, a tee shirt and a nylon windbreaker and headed for the main drag in town to strut my shit. It was quite nice, albeit a tad unusual. I am not used to traffic lights that permit the walker/runner/regular pedestrian to push a button, which will eventually alert drivers to stop (as if they would in Jersey). I am also not accustomed to seeing the triple lines carved into the sidewalk, which presumably tell a blind person that he or she is approaching in intersection. (In Jersey, blind people are fair game).
The walk provided me with a cornucopia of interesting sights, including a large restaurant (which I presume is a chain) called â€œSweet Tomatoesâ€ — a buffet restaurant that only serves salads. At the time, I wondered to myself how long it would take for such a restaurant to go out of business in North Newark. But I digress.
So, I was walking along and working on a serious sweat, when the following happened. I swear that this is exactly how it went â€¦â€¦â€¦.
As I was walking, a bus going in the same direction stopped and discharged a woman who appeared to be roughly my age, perhaps bit older. Judging by the hour, I assume that she was on her way to work. She was dressed in a long wool coat, and she was wearing a hat, scarf and gloves. I would wear that much clothing for an Arctic expedition, but I figured, Hey, itâ€™s California and then I didnâ€™t think anything more of it as I approached her on the sidewalk.
However, this Nanook-of-the-North woman stood her ground and waited for me to walk past her, at which time she glared at me and angrily said, â€œWhatâ€™s the matter with you? How can you wear shorts when the temperature is in the thirties?â€ This woman was clearly pissed.
My initial thought was, My, that is not a terribly progressive way to behave.
I stopped and said, â€œIâ€™m from Jersey,â€ thinking that would explain things.
She immediately responded, â€œI donâ€™t give a damn; Iâ€™m from New Yorkâ€¦â€ blah, blah, blah.
Upon hearing that, I responded, â€œNew York? Yo! Fuggetaboutit!!â€
She glared once more and continued muttering as she walked away.
It figures – An obnoxious New York asshole, who moved to California and who can no longer take the cold weather.
I can only assume that that when the genetic cards were dealt, I wound up with the â€œAttract-the-Douche-Bagâ€ gene.