You Have To Tell People

“Don’t eat that. Please don’t eat that. We’re buying you lunch. Just…don’t eat that.”

I probably shouldn’t have told her that the taco I brought for lunch had been sitting in my car since the evening before.

But they were getting me lunch, so I could just save the taco for dinner.

Perfect.

I wasn’t expecting them to buy me lunch. On a day that wasn’t my birthday.

And I wasn’t expecting them to do this.

But I was expecting some level of this.

Doritos and dark chocolate and adoration.

That’s what I…we’ll call it requested…on my message board.

You have to tell people what you expect from them. Especially on your birthday. Or they’ll just let it go by without even acknowledging it.

B-Major says my message board is the most leo thing she’s ever seen.

So obviously I win at being a Leo.

I like winning.

They also brought me donuts and a cake. Which I didn’t even ask for. Because people like me. Dammit.

They’re only missing the coffee. I expect that will come on Monday. I know they don’t think the break room coffee will be sufficient…

And I think it was the fact that I had to keep telling people that they would be required to adore me again on Monday, because that is my actual birthday, so Friday was just a test run, that I again forgot about my taco.

He did make it inside the house with me Friday night. Just not into my stomach. Or the fridge. But at least he was inside. And not still sitting in my car.

Because it was stifling hot out yesterday and he wouldn’t have liked sitting in my car all day. While I attended the annual Mountain Junkies Sunshine Birth Anniversary Celebration Fab 5k party. Where I served as a water technician.

Barely.

So you know how like as a teenager you were so mean to your parents because those are the ones who are supposed to love you unconditionally so no matter how many times you screw up they have to keep welcoming you back?

Yeah.

The Gilberts are like my parents.

Except way younger than me.

I swear I was on time when I woke up yesterday morning.

I was on target to get there at 7:32am, according to Waze. So by 7:29am, at the latest. Because I can always beat Waze. Obviously. Because I know shortcuts she doesn’t know.

That’s not true. I don’t know shortcuts. Don’t ever let me tell you I know shortcuts.

But about ten miles in, I remembered that I’m on call this weekend. And I absolutely did not have my duty phone with me. And my probationers get hella needy on a Saturday.

I texted Josh.

I don’t know if he really understands me. The idea of hazing gets me excited.

Not in a creepy inappropriate way.

But I mean some sort of physical challenge that’s gonna be impossibly painful and risky? Psht. Sign me up.

God please let it be some sort of physical challenge that’s impossibly painful and risky and not anything that involves talking to attractive men or doing math.

Rolled into Green Hill Park at 8:01am. Where Skratch and Tiny Brazilian tried to make me go park somewhere else. Because the race was starting.

So I just jumped out and abandoned my car to their care and ran over to my water station. Where Goatfinder was waiting patiently for me.

Because she reluctantly agreed to work the water station with me when Josh asked her to.

Actually begged might be more accurate?

What he specifically asked her was, “Are you up for working with Sunshine at the water stop on Saturday?”

“Up for”

Up for??

Excuse me???

People like me, dammit!

Just because I “garner my fair share of eye rolls…”

Ok. No. That’s fair. I can be a little…much sometimes. I know that. It’s a fair question.

But Goatfinder loves me. Or at least tolerates me well. So she said yes.

And then proceeded to initiate a highly inappropriate conversation with a woman about her 30 something son that was supposed to be running the race. Her single 30 something son. Who is Army. Her single 30 something Army son…

And that’s why I asked a ten year old child to get me a date…

See what had happened was, the woman was the child’s grandmother. And when I implied that 30 something was too young for me. She offered up the child’s father. Her Army son’s older brother. Who is also Army…

I mean, you can’t just let that opportunity pass you by. She really set me up for that. She and Goatfinder. And really, Goatfinder should have known not to let that conversation happen. She knows me. And all the eye rolls I garner.

I’m sorry Josh.

The boy looked ok when they left.

Not fully traumatized or anything.

And, in case anyone claims otherwise, I only made ONE person burpee for water at the aid station.

It’s possible I suggested it to a few folks.

But I only made one person actually do it.

And really, Fall Risk should have been doing way more than just the one burpee anyway.

She’s gonna be a Spartan soon.

Sooooo, I’m not sure what my hazing is gonna look like.

But whatevs. Because my birthday race was excellent. Tons of people showed up. And Skratch and Goatfinder and Tiny Brazilian even brought me gifts. And the Gilberts had these awesome shirts made for everyone to take home.

None of my probationers wished me a happy birthday when I visited them after my race party. But they were all where they were supposed to be. So that’s the best gift they could’ve given me.

And I was exhausted when I got home. And starving. And craving tacos. And it just so happened that I had one waiting for me…

So I got pizza instead.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s