Quit Mouthing Me Words
Hey lady who walks those neighbor hood roads in the dusk of a fall evening. I see you there with your reflective stripes covered your buddy as though you were some sort of mummy who was on their way to an Egyptian rave. You walk these streets and say, “Hello!” to everyone, even to the man who lets his dog poop in your lawn. You sure can turn the other cheek. But you do so because of the empowerment you feel when you’re out protecting this land of yours. You walk with purpose, each stride covering familiar pavement, making sure all is right with your neighbors.
So when I drive through the neighborhood, pizzas in the passenger seat, going the speed limit, you do not need to mouth words to me as though I am deaf. But I do hope you know that your pleas do fall on deaf ears. When you turn your head, furrow your brow, raise one of your hands, which is clutching a weight (you’re triceps must look amazing), and shout to me what I think is, “Slow Down” I am not going to slow down. Words shooting out of your mouth have no actual impact, no matter how well you shape your mouth into a cannon. My car is not programmed (that I know of) to have a soul and, therefore, does not care that is is going five miles per hour over the speed limit in a sleepy dark residential area.
So please, give your gabby mouth a break for once and quit screaming at me. Perhaps if you learn to settle down, Hector will stop pooping on your land. Hector the accountant neighbor of yours, not his dog.
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“reflective stripes covered your buddy as though you were some sort of mummy who was on their way to an Egyptian rave”
THAT is what i should have been for halloween.