Heart pounding, sweat pouring, music blaring, “I’m on top of the world”, sneakers hitting the pavement to the rhythm of my swaying hips. One honk, two truck drivers, three thumbs up, four head nods, but who’s counting?
I’m on top of the world.
Thumbs up guy number 1 in a black fancy car catches up to me through the traffic. He’s actually kind of cute. “Here, call me, he remarks”, as he reaches over the passenger seat passing me his business card. I’m left dumbstruck by the complexities of my long train of thought that follows, as I continue my steps along the newly jaded pavement.
First, “cool, I guess I look cute today”. Second, “what the hell? He’s a creep; what kind of guy stops on the side of the road to give out his phone number”? Third, “Wait a minute, what about all the other thumbs up and head nods? Are they appreciating the honest sight of hard work and hardcore determination as I hope them to be”? Fourth, “Come on! Is this what this world has come to, questioning the motives of such inspiring moments”? Then, bam, right back to thought number 1, with “Hell yeah, I guess I really do look pretty hot today. Followed by, "Shit why am I caring or basing that thought on some creep”?
Darn human brain! “Is it normal to enjoy that moment of flattery? Followed by a brutal mental beating for even having that first thought, when all my values scream out to protect us women? Damn. All this and it isn’t even 830am. I’m a person. I’m a woman. Simple as complex as that”.