Chronically Ironic

·That Ain’t No Puppy!

So my fat collegiate ass needed a motivator to get me up off the couch back in the day, and oh, shit, I guess I still need that now.  I just don’t know anyone interested in the job.  But in college, I had a crazy friend named Annie that was what I would like to call a Fucking Fitness Freak.  It was interesting because we were complete opposites, but we really got along.  I think I was the friend that she was ashamed to be seen with in public, but that was ok by me.  Every night after dinner, she would walk from her house to my house and make me stop whatever I was doing (usually talking on the phone and chain-smoking) and force me to walk two miles with her.  Every night.  Without fail.  Rain or shine.  Yecch.  Although I did lose 40 pounds, and it was a lot of fun, and now I can bring you this story because of it.  It wasn’t without benefits.  Oh, and I was probably healthier.  Amazing what 10+ years will do to your will power and motivation. 

We did the same route pretty much every night, and it was very scenic - it was East Texas, lots of trees, and we walked in the “rich” neighborhood so we got to look at all the nice houses and speculate on the houses we would someday possibly inhabit ourselves, out in the real world.  It was a slightly wooded area, and we usually walked at dusk.  It would usually turn dark before we were finished, but lots of interesting nature-y shit happens at twilight.  We had seen lots of bats, which at first was freaky, then we got used to it.  Annie was from Pennsylvania and I was from Dallas, so seeing some country-ass bullshit was not really anything either one of us had ever experienced.  We started making friends with the bats, throwing rocks up in the air from time to time and watching them follow the rocks almost to the ground.  Cheap entertainment, my friends.  This is what people do when they don’t do drugs.  Try not to fall asleep. 

So one evening, we are on the last leg of our route, and we are on my favorite part of the street where some of the less affluent but still nice houses are…and some of the best lawns.  I have always been a really big fan of nice grass, and while that sounds dumb, I just never lived in a house with an outstanding lawn - growing up in Arizona where lawns are scarce didn’t really help.  We are walking along and talking about nothing or boys or whatever we usually talk about, and I am staring at this lawn because it is a gorgeous, lush, deep green and the flowerbeds are just amazing.  All of a sudden, a tiny dog comes running out from the backyard (there was no fence to keep the dog from running) and I look at Annie and say, “Hey!  Take a look at that sweet wittle puppy!”  It gets closer and it is running really fast, and Annie, in her Country-est Non-Country voice, says “That ain’t no puppy!  That’s a WILD PIG!!!“

We ran for the fucking hills, dear readers.  That was probably the last time I ran anywhere.  Needless to say, we continued our routine and never saw another baby pig again…but that’s what I get for exercising.  Fuck a bunch of that.  I learned my lesson and I am happy with my choice.  Even in the city, you never know what is gonna come out of somebody’s backyard. 

The Short Bus