Monday, September 13, 2010

Run, Forest, Run

Yet another day has gone by, and I still do not have my car back.  I was beyond livid when the check was NOT in the mailbox this afternoon, and sure enough I gave Insurance Bitch another piece of my mind.  After these repeated phone conversations, I have come to the conclusion that she is not very bright.  Once I hung up the phone with the dipshit Insurance Bitch, I was really fuming and needed a way to blow off some steam.  Since I did not have immediate access to Insurance Bitch to serve up a swift roundhouse kick to the face with my Spartan ass-kickin foot, I figured I would head out for a run around the neighborhood instead.

I tied up my shoes, set the iPod to shuffle, and headed out.  I started off by running South up to a corner eatery a few blocks down the street, called the Pied Piper.  I then turned around and headed North.  As I was running along Riverside Drive, I noticed a silver Grand AM drive by, going what seemed to be a bit slower than the speed limit.  At this point I was running through a school-zone, so I really did not think much of the Grand AM slowly creeping by.  I continued along my journey and made it up to the next corner, which is just under a mile away from where I was.  As I made it up to the corner I saw the silver Grand AM turning around at the intersection to head back South down Riverside.  Hmmm.

I stretched out a bit and needed a new song to run to.  I needed something like a Glee mash up or even Buckcherry's 'Crazy Bitch' and thought I'd run back to the Pied Piper before finally heading home.  So far I was having a good run and had been maintaining a good pace.  Cresting over the hill and seeing the Pied Piper off in the distance, I quickly noticed a silver Grand AM in the parking lot.  Well now all I could think to myself was "WTF?!"

I made my way up to the parking lot so I could stretch out again before heading back home.  I had had enough of running for the day, and Grand AM was actually becoming a bit strange.  I had paused at the corner for just long enough to retie my shoe when I was suddenly approached by the 5' 8"ish, overweight driver of the Grand AM.  Grand AM's opening line was "Hey, I saw you running down Riverside."  It's true, I was in fact, running down Riverside...damn, Grand AM is observant.  He then proceeds with "I've noticed you running around here a few times before."

Keep in mind, that I have been out running, so I am a bit out of breath and also a bit annoyed from the day's events.  And anyone who knows me, knows that even on a normal day when I am quite sedentary, I still sweat like a prostitute in church, so just imagine what I would be like after running a few miles on a sunny southern day.  Not even the sweat pouring out of every pore of my body could deter Grand AM from attempting to make a pass at me.  All I could respond with was somewhat of a grunt/deeply inhaling so I could catch my breath and form a sentence.  I finally managed to respond that I was in fact running up and down Riverside, and usually did so about 4 or 5 days a week.  Grand AM then goes on to tell me he's noticed me a bit, he lives in the area and blah blah blah.  I must have shown some form of disinterest, because I really wasn't interested at all...I was also trying to notice if the car had a blinged out high school tassel hanging from the rear view mirror, a back window full of stuffed animals, or a witty bumper sticker like so many Grand AMs do.

After making some very light and mind numbing conversation, and not really giving much for Grand AM to work with, he asks if I would be up for drinks or hanging out, and since I was running, he would be more than happy to give me a ride somewhere.  Ok dumbass, I was out running for a workout...not running because I don't have a car to drive or even running away from someone/something.  Also, I'm a gross, hot, sweaty mess...no I do not want to go get drinks with you.  He offers to give me his number, but I had to decline that since I was in my running shorts, I didn't have my phone on me.  We bid each other farewell, and I turn around to head home...this time I will actually rock out to 'Crazy Bitch.'    

Perhaps I would have been flattered that someone decided to do some light stalking and follow me up and down my running course.  However, the whole thing was slightly odd and annoying, and frankly,  I don't trust anyone who drives a Grand AM, especially when they are a few years older than me and well on their way to looking like the fat guy from Rascal Flats.

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