So I decided that as part of my 2011 "improve thug scout" regimine, that I would start working-out. This sounds simple enough. With the exception of my drinking, smoking, and intense desire to eat as much fried food before thirty that I possibly can, it would be. I, however, am one of those people who has to be shot in the ass by the AK-47 of life before I make any decision. Working-out doesn't sound like a tough decision, but when you factor my nine to ten hour workday, my boyfriend, and the fact that I am as broke as window in the ghetto-well you get it. Working-out isn't as simple as those drill sergeants on "Biggest Loser" make it out to be.
This is where I get to the point. I decided that on my lunch break everyday I would do some sort of physical activity. The weather here in Thug Scout Land has been beautiful lately and wouldn't you know there is a park near my office. The park is not like any other that I have ventured into. It appears to be a clandestine offshoot of the property near an old abandonded Jewish school. I love the Jewish people (they are God's chosen people after all) and I figured the park would be a safe place to run/powerwalk/leisurely listen to Deathcab for Cutie for thirty minutes.
So I venture to said park. I begin to stroll, boyfriend's old iphone in hand as a substitute for music and I notice what appears to be a gaggle of well-armed polic officers. I see them scaling down walls, shooting their guns and participating in what appear to be a reenactment of the 80s holiday favourite "Christmas Vacation" house raiding scene. Now, instead of running back to my car or finding a place to duck-and-cover, I do what most people would do when weapons are being fired and attack dogs are lined up. I try to call my mom. Naturally, at this point of intense excitement in my life, Judy does not answer. She often complains I never answer my phone, but she calls when I am at work, in the middle of a labatomy or sex. I assume she is participating in the second activity as option one and option three are more likely than santa claus coming down my chimney and hand-delivering a newborn African baby to me.
I am in such a panic by the fact that I don't have anyone else to call about this event in my history that I continue to run while keeping my head cocked to the left and staring down this police scene all together. After pulling a muscle staring down the scene, I quickly realize that the officers are participating in training. I find this out by reading the large sign that states "Police Officer Training". I am a genius.
The best part about the whole incident is the girl walking her dog in front of me. She is around my age, very pretty but immediately I can tell she is one of "those" girls. She is wearing very short shorts, has her hair down, and is walking her doberman with a large, spikey collar. Now, what does this enable me to conclude. Well, I wear short shorts too so that just makes me think. Second, she has her long hair down at the park walking a dog when its seventy-five degrees out. Unless you are doing a photo shoot for Hawaiian Tropic, who wears their hair down for excercise/walking the dog? Third, only girls that are 100% complete attention whores have giant dobermans with large spikey collars. I have a general rule. If you are a young female walking a giant dog breed usually reserved for junkyard protection or biting legs of intruders, then you are really just trying to garnish male attention with your mutt. That is it. Now, I happen to have a pit (or my parents do, but we did coexsist at one point) and there is not one part of me that thought "Hey wouldn't it be cool if I put a brass knuckle looking collar on Buddy and pranced around the park because that will look totally harmless", but hey to each his own.
Now, this girl, we shall refer to her as "I don't have any girl friends because I get along better with guys" kept walking past the same area where the cops were scaling down walls and shooting firearms. She wasn't just walking by, but rather she appeared to be doing "suicide drills" that involved running the lenth of the cops periphreal view. "I don't have any girl friends because I get along better with guys" kept looking to see if cops were noticing, which made me keep looking at her with the look of pure admiration and disgust. Now, if "I don't have any girl friends because I get along better with guys" had spent time tracking down the training schedule and roster for the county and knew that this training was going on and purposefully came with Kujo for the purpose of picking up a dude, well kudos to her.
Me- I just skulked back to my car and slowly drove off while watching "I don't have an girl friends because I get along better with guys" did her 100th trek past the officers.
