{the problem}

the problem is people.
this is almost always the problem.

yesterday, a car ran a stop sign and almost hit me. i put my hand out and it came to rest on the hood as the little blue mustang screeched to a stop and the petite blonde behind the wheel just twisted a lock of product-filled hair around her texting finger and looked at me blankly like, "oh, huh. where'd you come from?" i smiled at her and went on, glad not to be implanted face first in her windshield.

and then i went for coffee with becky and was attacked by a woman in ripped jean shorts. i use the word "attacked" loosely, because she didn't actually touch me; she just lunged at me, screaming that i had, apparently, looked at her wrong.

but honestly, i don't really remember looking at her much at all, except to notice that she was wearing ripped jean shorts. i was thankful that her boyfriend held her back so she couldn't hit me, and carefully escorted her away and across the street before the situation escalated. through the whole event, i didn't move a muscle except to sip my iced coffee and laugh at a joke becky told.

earlier that day, i'd been walking past a yard where a man stood watering his flowers. i had my headphones on and was watching the sidewalk disappear beneath my feet when he glanced up and i glanced over and he turned the hose directly on my face, even though my face was absolutely nowhere near his flowers. i was a little bit shocked and quite mad, but it was hot that day and the water felt so refreshing that i just kept on walking, patting my hair down and using the bottom of my shirt to dry my face.

but the point is not that.
the point is that some days i wonder if i might be on a reality tv show i don't know about; i wonder if the point of the show is to provoke me into fighting with someone or punching something or whatever.

because if that's not the case, then i just live in a city full of weirdos and klutzes and jerks, basically.