Two Scenes

In the car today, two of my coworkers discussed the jewelry business that one of them has started on the side. From the backseat, it sounded like a Tupperware party style pyramid scheme, but I kept my mouth shut.
“My goal is to have three parties before Christmas,” one said.
“Whoa!” said the other.
“Do you think that’s too much?”
“I think you should aim for two… by February.”
I thought it sounded weird, and not particularly profitable, since she talked about buying her own products and having to pay for party supplies, but I haven’t been asked to attend, so I looked out the window. The conversation turned to Christmas themed gift twine which one had purchased and the other had not. I felt smug and superior.
On the car ride home, the same two coworkers were discussing the recent reduction in food stamps, and then food stamps in general.
“To be honest,” said one “I think that you shouldn’t be able to use food stamps at McDonalds. You should have to buy healthy food, you know?”
“Yeah, but these are usually the people working three jobs and maybe they don’t have time to cook,” said the other.
I don’t think the government should be in the business of dictating people’s food choices, I thought to myself. People should be allowed to eat what they choose without judgment or shame from the rest of us, I thought.
Oh crap, I thought.

I failed to fix the bike. After I changed the tube, I couldn’t get the wheel on straight so when I tried to ride it, it cramped up almost immediately. Tried to fix it today, and I couldn’t get the nut off.
I’d like to say that I gritted my teeth and kept working on it. I’d like to say I knew what to do and I did it. But I didn’t. I couldn’t get the nut off the wheel. I was dirty and cold and I cried. Dad’s advice, “what do you need to do?” wasn’t much help against a leverage-less nut.
I half-wheeled half-carried the bike to the shop down the street, hoping that it was open and wishing I had done more to learn bike maintenance before the bike broke. The dude fixed the wheel, filled the tires and checked the brakes. One of the other mechanics talked to me about Chicago. They didn’t charge me. I didn’t learn much.

I am a work in progress.

One comment

  1. We all are works in progress. I think by taking it to the mechanic you did what you needed to do. Having been with the Cammaratas for five years, I disagree that food stamps should buy chips or mountain dew.

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