Marathon

Headed downtown today at around 12:30 to meet L and a date of hers and watch the Boston Marathon. To doll myself up for the city (and because even as I say I have given up on finding a man I still want to not look and/or smell like ass in case I run into my future husband on the street) I used the last of the Aveda Volumizing Conditioner with clay (passed on to me by OSB) and blow-dried my hair. And while I didn't end up running into my husband I was a big hit with the residentially-challenged set. One guy begging for change at the top of the stairs at the Hynes T told me my hair looked great and then asked if I would shake the hand of a black man, which I did. Then he told me he was Irish. Black Irish. Uh-huh. Then he asked me if I wanted a black kiss and I left. I rounded a couple of corners and another homeless fellow told me I had nice boobs, in exactly those words. So as you can imagine I was feeling quite attractive. Actually I really was feeling attractive. I ran into a friend in the coffee shop later on that afternoon, and when I related that story to her she, unprompted, said she kind of is glad when the homeless guys holler at her because at least she knows she’s still a certifiable hottie on some level.

Anyhoo, I headed to the (almost) finish line with boosted spirits and got there in time to see the top mens' and womens' finishers. I have to say it was pretty neat to watch the runners start the race on tv over lunch and then hop on the train and see them (near to the) finish in person. Every runner I saw go by looked surprisingly good – not tired at all – and as I knew I’d be standing there for a long time and only seeing a few seconds of action (which was rather like my experience losing my virginity) I was not the least bit disappointed. (I can’t say the same for the virginity-losing but I was 22 and it was time for it to go.)

After the elite men went by, I headed back for the train, because it's a work day for me (I'm an Official Writer now and so have a job to do even when I am not making money). Got into a bit of a logjam except with people while heading back to the T. I was stuck behind a middle-aged man and his son who looked to be about ten. In front of them was a 19 year old. They were going nowhere but there was a steady trickle of people headed in the opposite direction. The 19 year old gave up and got directions for a way around the bottleneck, but the guy and his kid kept standing there, waiting for an opportunity to go.

Well I, seasoned city dweller that I am, knew there would be no such opportunity. I tapped the dad on the shoulder and said "I may not look it, but I'm a pretty good shover. Mind if I step in front of you?"

He let me go and instructed his son to follow me. And I ever-so-gently excusedme'd and shoved my way through the crowd. When I turned back to look the crowd had swallowed the guy and his son; I felt kind of bad. Maybe next time I'll let them hold my hand.