Park Freaks

Got home from work around 8:30 am. Yeah, I work nights. Long story, but the the short version would be that it's the result of a whole myriad of bad decisions and bad luck. That's a story for another day. Anyways, I got home from work around 8:30 am hell bent on getting in a good solid run so that I could meet my weigh in goal for the end of the month. Yeah, weigh-in goals are either chick goals or professional fighter goals, but I work nights and need something to pretend to look forward too. I'd planned on eating a light snack, taking a short break, then hitting the track. The light snack turned out to be McDonald's sausage biscuits, a bag of Pepperidge Farm Distinctive Milano Double Chocolate cookies, and a whole bunch of milk. The short break turned out to be four hours of youtube and ABC Family episodes on my computer because I couldn't get Hulu to pull up. After I felt good and rested, I headed to the my favorite park for a short run. Generally, it's one of my favorite workout parks of all time. It's usually empty during the day, the weather is perfect, the run trail is in a circle, it's hilly, and it measures out to a little over a mile. It's the kind of place where I can take off my shirt, put on my headphones, and sweat it out because the only people that are there are moms, hippies and blind old people. So I started running (mind you, I use the term run rather loosely) and within a few minutes, I'm lost in my run and baseball music. When you're hot, and in pain, your mind's gotta go somewhere. Today it went to Yankee Stadium where I was the star rookie hitting against that Lincecum guy, that pitches for San Fransisco, in the World Series. The World Series came to an abrupt halt; however, as I realized that my 64 ounces of Lime Diet Pepsi were kicking in (I didn't count it in my earlier snack breakdown because lime-flavored Diet Pepsi is my lifeblood) and I was wearing those megatight Underarmor drawers that keep me from chaffing so when I started to feel it, it came on pretty quick and intense. Being a classy park, about a mile into the run, there is a well-appointed public restroom that I use from time to time, so I knew I was ok. As I got to the little building though, I noticed that I wasn't the only one headed in. Not that big a deal, except that this guy wasn't dressed in park attire, AND he was looking at me. Every guy knows that one of the unbreakable men's room rules is that you never make eye contact with another man in the restroom. This rule extends to about thirty feet before the door, and yet this guy was looking at me. Nature didn't give a damn though, and so I went in anyways. Luckily, the weirdo obeyed the urinal rule and used one of the side urinals leaving the requisite one urinal space in between us. Slightly releaved, I took care of business. As I was taking care of business, and starting to think about hitting one out of center field again, I noticed, on the wall at my urinal, an advertisement. Public stall walls are kind of like a gay craigslist, and this was no exception. I can't remember the services offered, but I know it gave me the creeps, so I hurried and got out of there lest I get all Sea Bass'd.... Walking outside, shaking off the willey's, I was almost run over by a park maintenance worker who didn't seem to be in a good mood. I would have shrugged this off, but this park worker had an odd look about him just like the other guy. Kind of a Will and Grace vibe. For a minute there, I wondered if maybe I hadn't interupted someones "meet-cute". Put together the first guy's puzzled look, the personal ad on the wall, and the unhappy park worker and I just might have a point.... Whatever... It's amazing how good sports entry music can transport you to to another world. I was listening to Candy by Cameo and soon I was back in the Bronx.