The Crazy Walker TM
On Thanksgiving Day I went for a short run on my familiar Ohlone Greenway route. The sky was gray, though not dark enough to be gloomy it still made for a dull and drabby run. Because everyone was either inside eating turkey or watching football, the path was unusually empty of other exercisers and pedestrians and completely devoid of the usually busyness. The parking lots were barren and playgrounds were evacuated, and the subways looked like abandoned concrete dinosaurs. There was a great overwhelming silence around me. Everyone had left me alone. I couldn't make up my mind if I was lonely or at peace as a trotted on the dirt way next to the walkway.
Then I saw her. I mean, I always see her on Ohlone--always, but I was still startled to see anybody, much less The Crazy WalkerTM , on a holiday. I should not have been surprised, Crazy is well known on this path since she walks and walks it up and down almost every hour of every day. You would think this manic obsession with constant exercise would make her thinner, but out of all the years I've seen her swinging arms and shuffling feet her butt only seems to get wider and wider to the point that now I have to step slightly off the path to get around her.
And, oh my, is The Crazy WalkerTM really is crazy!
She is an imposing woman with black, cornrowed hair and a round head that rises on a proud neck. Her chin is always lifted with concentrated dignity marked her facial features, but she has eyes that display a certain sort of madness. I have learned to not make the slightly eye contact with her or she yells in fear at me. "Don't thin' about grabbin' me! I have nuthin. NUTHIN. No money. You can't hoit me!!" She howled this at me once when I first attempted just a smile. She yelled as if I could hurt her, though she is twice my size or more and could easily flatten me with her big palm. She yelled like a woman in her own private hell.
I guess on Thanksgiving I was feeling brave, or generous, or lonely. I thought perhaps today I could say "hi" to The Crazy WalkerTM; maybe I'd offer her a turkey sandwich later. Perhaps the last time, despite my limited height, she found something intimidating about me. I wanted to show her that I'm easy going, that people consider me nice (maybe a little neurotic but not someone call a violent robber beater up of women). So I slowed to a stop and gave her my warmest most innocent smile.
I'm not sure what I expected. For a woman that usually radiated such despair I suppose I presumed further yelling rather than have her morph into a more balanced, even-tempered sort of person. Although her usual crazy eyes shown out at me without any particular friendliness or animosity, or even curiosity, she did smile back at me. She was so close that I could see the gold inlays of her teeth. This was progress enough for me so satisfied I scuttled on.
Thirty minutes later when I passed her again she was yelling at the empty Safeway loading dock, perhaps thinking of it not as a building but as an animal, capable of inflicting great pain and possibly death.
Then I saw her. I mean, I always see her on Ohlone--always, but I was still startled to see anybody, much less The Crazy WalkerTM , on a holiday. I should not have been surprised, Crazy is well known on this path since she walks and walks it up and down almost every hour of every day. You would think this manic obsession with constant exercise would make her thinner, but out of all the years I've seen her swinging arms and shuffling feet her butt only seems to get wider and wider to the point that now I have to step slightly off the path to get around her.
And, oh my, is The Crazy WalkerTM really is crazy!
She is an imposing woman with black, cornrowed hair and a round head that rises on a proud neck. Her chin is always lifted with concentrated dignity marked her facial features, but she has eyes that display a certain sort of madness. I have learned to not make the slightly eye contact with her or she yells in fear at me. "Don't thin' about grabbin' me! I have nuthin. NUTHIN. No money. You can't hoit me!!" She howled this at me once when I first attempted just a smile. She yelled as if I could hurt her, though she is twice my size or more and could easily flatten me with her big palm. She yelled like a woman in her own private hell.
I guess on Thanksgiving I was feeling brave, or generous, or lonely. I thought perhaps today I could say "hi" to The Crazy WalkerTM; maybe I'd offer her a turkey sandwich later. Perhaps the last time, despite my limited height, she found something intimidating about me. I wanted to show her that I'm easy going, that people consider me nice (maybe a little neurotic but not someone call a violent robber beater up of women). So I slowed to a stop and gave her my warmest most innocent smile.
I'm not sure what I expected. For a woman that usually radiated such despair I suppose I presumed further yelling rather than have her morph into a more balanced, even-tempered sort of person. Although her usual crazy eyes shown out at me without any particular friendliness or animosity, or even curiosity, she did smile back at me. She was so close that I could see the gold inlays of her teeth. This was progress enough for me so satisfied I scuttled on.
Thirty minutes later when I passed her again she was yelling at the empty Safeway loading dock, perhaps thinking of it not as a building but as an animal, capable of inflicting great pain and possibly death.
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