Cocoon

Since my patience is thinner than a piece of sashimi sushi, I may have even less patience for the elderly than I do babies. You get why a baby shits their pants, but you have to question if an adult is merely doing it out of spite. When I lived in Florida, I definitely felt like my road rage was much worse there than it was in California. In California, everyone is in a hurry and likes to fulfill their egos by weaving in and out of traffic in a Convertible Porsche and honking their horn...this is similar to the fulfillment a 4'9" gent with Spider sunglasses gets when driving his Ford F-250 in the Inland Empire.
I recently ran a 5K that I swore I was in shape for. This bout of smugness resulted in me drinking bottomless mimosas the entire afternoon before, which then led me to waking up in my bikini with a wicked smoker's cough and yesterday's makeup. I finished the race in 39:30 which I was sadly very proud of at the time. I usually have small goals when running 5K's, like beating the women pushing strollers and the blind, but this day I merely just wanted to finish the race. The warm Southern California sun was beaming bright by 9am in early March, and I was sweating out champagne and orange juice like it was my job. Our friend Juleen was way ahead, so Denise and I ran/walked together. I hate to add this to the story but I'm 3 house chardonnays in as I write this so what the hell. Denise may or may not have been suffering from walking pneumonia during the race, and she still waited for me to catch up to her. We decided to use an elderly I assumed to be 80+ year man as a marker...he was the one to beat. His apparent afflictions ran the gammet from scoliosis to camel toe, but he ran undeterred the entire time, and ended up smoking us. I'm not sure that there is a moral or a punchline to this story as much as it was just funny.