Lift your leg and let it rip!

18 Apr

I live in an affluent (read: snobby) town in New Hampshire that sits closely to both the MA border and a city in NH. I think the median house is listed at like $400k or some such shit. My house, which is one of the original 1970’s raised ranches is probably valued at about $200k and is well placed in an “old” neighborhood in town. You cannot swing a dead cat around here without hitting a minivan decorated with those stick figure people decals and a mombot dropped into the front seat complete with the Cell phone accessory attached to its head.

My first experience in this town was I dropped my then 13 year old daughter off at a “friends” house and the mom bebopped down the stairs to find out who cleans my house and if I played tennis because there is a mom’s meeting of tennis-bot’s on Tuesdays at 10am. Imagine her surprise to find out that it was ME that cleaned my house *shock* but I also WORKED! So you are probably thinking on my town accurately now I think and you know I KNOW that some of you are totally digging the way it sounds. I mean really, no work, tennis, cell phone’s and decals? WINNING! (sorry I had to do that.) It isn’t for me though ok? Here I live in the middle of the “other neighborhood” with my tattoos (yes that is plural), long hair, motorcycles, DOGS, and yes even chickens. Let’s just put it this way, I never have met anyone in my town that wanted to be my friend. I guess I don’t have a drug problem, or a therapist so I just don’t fit in (I have a drinking problem it is totally different so shut it).

There is, of course, a point to this story.

Sunday on my weekend alone, I had planned on making beef stew as a last hoorah tribute to the cold weather. I needed to get to the grocery store for some of the vegetables. I recently decided that when in doubt, I would be riding my motorcycle because it’s too frigging expensive to fill my huge monster truck with gas (btw the monster truck is yet another strike against me because it is not an Escalade and we actually USE our trucks to haul shit).  I glanced at the thermometer and promised myself I would leave the minute the needle hit 55 degrees. After the needle hit 60 (heh) I geared up in my jeans, backpack, leather jacket, full faced helmet, and leather gloves with the fingers cut out. I headed to the grocery store in our town which was about 4 miles away from my house.

I got to the store (nervously as this was my first real ride of the season and you know I suck at that ride see here: ) took off my helmet but left the rest of the gear on.

Seriously I got stared down and scowled at like 100 times in the store. It was so bad I was torn between pulling out my 9mm (yeeeeep that too) and shooting them all in their robotic heads and running out of there screaming! I chose to finish my shopping very slowly and casually, made eye contact with every scowler and smiled. I put my shit in my bag and went home to make my stew. I wasn’t upset anymore because they are sad people and plus, I knew I would be able to get it out here and tell you fine people without the benefit of seeing your faces as you either get pissed off at them for sucking, or scowl at me for being different.

I think next time something like this happens I shall give them something to scowl about so they feel better about it. Perhaps I will lift my leg and let one rip?


2 Responses to “Lift your leg and let it rip!”

  1. stevebetz April 18, 2011 at 7:07 PM #

    I may have to appropriate the phrase “mombot” — the southern California model is especially annoying.

    How dare you not conform!?!?!?!?

    • middleofthebed April 21, 2011 at 12:17 PM #

      Literally if they find out that you work for a living there is an uncomfortable silence while they try to run the “Hide the Pity Face” application. They need more RAM.

      I shudder to think of the SoCA version of the mombot. I wonder… instead of the cell phone attachment does she has a dog purse?

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