RDP Tuesday : FEAR

Let’s play a writer’s game- it is called what if.

 

What IF

you have lost all sense of reason because in your world there is no one left to reason

with

Or

there are a few people to reason with but oh my God the ones who can’t see reason

have driven you absolutely mad

and your behavior recently has become, in a word monstrous.

It’s not your fault, you tell yourself, it’s those fools, those idiots those libtards.

 

So today

you got on one train after another

and sat in the middle of the car.

You put your leg up on the seat across from you

at an angle

then you leaned backed

and you forced yourself to cough and sneeze and  then you spit on the empty seat in

front of you.

 

You called anyone who got up to move out of the car and get away from you a

Mother Fucker, a Libtard, you dared for someone- anyone- to call security

and on the first two trains people did call on you  and  security threw you off.

 

Then you got on my train.

You sat against the window in the row across from me.

You coughed, you sneezed, you spit on the floor and when the train got to the next

stop a lot of people got off- because that’s what happens at this stop

and you screamed at them, you said you could hear them mumbling about him.

Then of course came your somewhat hysterical sounding  shouts- ‘ call security Mother

Fuckers! Go on Call them!”

 

Now here comes the game of what if in all of it’s glory.

 

What if the woman who was sitting across from you in the next aisle got up and  had

moved

to the seat behind you when you were busy yelling at the girl with the electric scooter.

 

What if  the woman had  taken off her backpack off and her jacket and put her keys

between her

fingers

with the business ends pointing out, the way she learned in self defense class.

 

What if she had already figured out you were  taller then her and she knew the best

place to jam those keys was up under your chin because there’s no resistance and with

about  10 pounds of pressure behind her she could really, really hurt you.

 

What if the man sitting in front of you, pretending to be book moved closer to

you too, while you were screaming and yelling.

 

What if you didn’t move a muscle, what if you suddenly realized the space around you

hadn’t expanded but had shrunk what if you knew that the last two people in the car

took their time gathering up their belongings  and after they got off of the train you sat

there and didn’t move because you couldn’t.

 

What if you had looked into her face- her eyes- because of course she was wearing a

mask and you did the same to the man and

when

you saw them, really saw them you didn’t call them Motherfuckers or Libtards. You said

somewhat meekly

” Is this Seattle? ”

 

What if the Man said, ” yes it is ” and as the woman swung her backpack over her

shoulder with one hand and you saw those keys in the other and what if in your bones

you knew they were daring you to stand up, to  make one little move- to cough or

sneeze or spit at them,  what if.

 

What if  there were  really  was a monster in Car 407 and you realized that the Scary

Monster who was angry and fed up and ready to rock and roll because it’s world was

gone and probably was never going to come back

wasn’t you.

What if.

 

RDP Monday: FRAGILE

Before Covid-19 hit, I was in the process of rebuilding my life in a city that is still stuck, architecturally speaking, in the 90’s and despite the fact we are less then 40 miles from Seattle  a lot of people around here affect a southern accent and drive Bro-Dozer pickup trucks.

In the Covid- Influenced world we live in now,  the city where I am a resident is as colorless and boring  as ever. That is something I did not think was possible, but  here we are.

I moved Toilet Town to be closer to my family and I have to say  that decision wasn’t one of my brightest ideas. In fact, it was pretty freaking stupid. With work and the lockdown I don’t see my family anymore then I did when I lived 40 miles away.

Just to clarify- I call this place Toilet Town because it’s full of S*&!.  It’s political leanings are crappy, the two movie theatres are crappy and it’s cultural center is WalMart. It’s actually a suburb full cookie cutter houses and in other areas those houses would be nice. Dated in a boring era, but nice.

So to improve  my POV I walk my dog in the neighborhood we live in ( ugh ) to absorb the fact that sure, I’m here. No getting around that. Blindly hating  Toilet Town  won’t make Toilet Town less of a Toilet Town.

So instead of cursing the ground I walk on, I try to see the bright side and I have found somethings to feel positive about.

On some occasions you could say I was a team player.

There  is a sign a block over from my home that tells you which way to run in case Mount Rainer erupts. Personally if that Mountain really goes I doubt that running up a hill towards it is the best idea in the world. But more clever minds then mine came up with a plan complete with an escape route and the only plan I have is to say my prayers.

Anyway, I like that sign. It makes me laugh.

On some occasions I even smile at my neighbor who has a  ginormous Blue Lives Matter flag flying OVER the American flag in his tiny front yard.  Last Summer a Cold storage facilty went up in flames almost right across the street from where he lives and he was in the area where they told people to evacuate. I wasn’t in that zone and I didn’t have a Blue Lives Matter flag in my yard to protect me from the evils of the world.

Whew, lucky me.

I have never gone on social media to tell people not to eat at the diner where the owner said he would gun down Black Lives Matter Supporters if they messed with his building. Of course that guy is a tool, nobody was going to vandalize his building. But the the call went out far and wide ( without my help ) to not eat there after he shot his mouth off to the press.  He was convinced the supporters were showing up with the sole purpose of burning his building down and that he had a right to bang away in self defense.  But Karma is a sweet bitch and his business tanked during the shut downs. LOL.

It’s probably obvious my  efforts to rebuild and adjust my attitude to Toilet Town is built on a very fragile foundation.

Any little thing can shake it.

Sometimes I think I can make living in Toilet Town work and other times after I hear stories about local Anti Maskers on the news or some Bubba parks his Bro-Dozer  in such a way that nobody can use the parking spaces on eithert side of the vehicle, or some Chump wearing a Trump T-shirt gets on the train with  me I have fantasies about going home, grabbing my dog and running for my life-

uphill towards a lava spewing volcano if need be.