LIBRA HOROSCOPE (from astrology.com): You’re more concerned with beauty than with so-called ‘real life’ today — and that should work out quite well for you! Your amazing energy helps you hit the sweet spot and reel in some new friends too.
For some reason, a morning jog in April feels colder than one in February. I think it’s because this is the time of year when Mother Nature likes to tease us. Little pockets of warmth given, then taken away. In truth, I’ve felt cold all day. Seems I never recovered from the start of the day.
Still, I’m glad I ran. Felt like I’d gained five pounds yesterday. I needed comfort after seeing Derrick at the beach. And, while I know it’s the wrong option, there is no comfort like that which comes in high (sugary) calories. I scarfed down a brownie, a lemon bar and a crème brulée. Damn you, Meinhardt! Having overloaded my sweet tooth, I balanced things by caving to my salty and spicy urges as I emptied a bag of Miss Vickie’s Jalapeño Potato Chips while watching the Canucks leave most of the work to Luongo for the first half of the Canucks game.
As I jogged past the Kits Pool, I noticed an elderly woman lying on the grass. Not the time of day for tanning. I stopped to see if she was all right. Turns out she wasn’t. She’d taken the grass instead of the paved walk as a shortcut down to the seawall and lost her balance on an uneven patch. She couldn’t get up and winced in pain when I tried to assist. I called 911 on my cell and sat on the ground trying to warm Millie who was shaking from cold and perhaps a bit of shock. Another runner stopped and I asked if he could grab Millie a coffee from the Starbucks across the street. “Cocoa,” Millie said. “It’s a cocoa kind of morn.”
“Yes, Millie. Cocoa sounds lovely.” (Obviously my sweet tooth was on the rebound.) The fellow with the drink order was back and stayed with us. He mentioned the Canucks game and Millie perked up. The shivers dissipated. Paramedics were on the scene within ten minutes. I backed away to let them do their thing.
“You really don’t recognize me, do you?” I looked at the Cocoa Canuck and was startled. What was his name? The guy I’d met with Lucy and Carl(a). The guy I spilled beer on last week.
“Of course I do. I’m sorry. I was so concerned about Millie I didn’t notice.”
“How are you, Laura?”
“Good. Well, a bit cold, but good. Yeah. Good.” I was stumbling because I hoped he wouldn’t ask…
“Do you remember my name?”
He asked. Damn. No idea. Frank? Fred? Started with F, didn’t it?
“It’s Ken.” Okay, so K isn’t that far down the alphabet from F. They’re practically neighbors.
As they wheeled Millie off, Ken and I ran alongside her. “You’re going to be fine, Millie,” I said, knowing nothing of the sort. “They’re taking you to VGH. I’ll come visit if they admit you. What’s your last name?”
“Morgan,” she replied, raising her hand in a slight wave as they loaded her in the ambulance. “Thanks, dears.”
“I’m betting you’re not going to remember that,” Ken said. “Just judging from experience.”
Ouch. It wouldn’t be prudent to argue the point. I remembered everyone’s name. Except his.
“How about we call it a day for jogging? Get you a pen so you can write down her name and I’d say we both deserve a hot chocolate.” My entire being said no. Just keep jogging. And then that damned sweet tooth caved. Which tooth was it anyway? Might be worth an extraction.
I’D WATCHED THE ENTIRE CANUCKS GAME LAST NIGHT GNAWING ON CARROT STICKS. THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ENOUGH. BUT I SET THE ALARM FOR AN EARLY JOG ANYWAY. 13 LBS LOST. PEOPLE WERE STARTING TO NOTICE. NO TIME TO LET UP. DON’T PUT IT OFF. BE A CANUCK. DO IT NOW INSTEAD OF IN A GAME 7.
I’VE GOTTEN A BIT BORED WITH THE TREK ALONG DAVID LAM AND OVER TO SCIENCE WORLD SO I OPTED FOR THE BURRARD STREET BRIDGE AND KITSILANO. AND THEN AN ODD SIGHT. A FEMALE JOGGER GROPING AN OLD LADY IN THE GRASS. IT WAS LAURA—AGAIN. TURNED OUT THE OLDER WOMAN HAD FALLEN. I WAS SENT ON A COCOA MISSION. B/C EVERYONE KNOWS THAT’S THE BEST MEDICINE FOR A BROKEN HIP.
OF COURSE, LAURA DIDN’T RECOGNIZE ME YET AGAIN. I SHOULD JUST TELL HER MY NAME IS JOE. JOE AVERAGE.
AFTER THE LADY WENT OFF IN THE AMBULANCE, I INVITED LAURA TO JOIN ME FOR A DRINK AT STARBUCKS AND SHE ACCEPTED. GUESS EXCUSES DON’T COME THAT QUICKLY THAT EARLY. IN LINE, I JOKED, “YOU SHOULD BE PAYING FOR THIS, YOU KNOW. AFTER WASTING MY BEER.”
“YOU’RE RIGHT. BUT I DIDN’T BRING ANY MONEY. IT WAS JUST SUPPOSED TO BE A RUN.”
WE TALKED FOR ABOUT TEN MINUTES. I WROTE DOWN THE OLD LADY’S NAME ON A NAPKIN SINCE I’D JOKED THAT LAURA HAD A TERRIBLE MEMORY FOR NAMES. JOTTED DOWN MINE TOO, ALONG W/MY NUMBER. “THE WAY I SEE IT, YOU NOW OWE ME TWO DRINKS. BUT I’LL SETTLE FOR ONE.”
SHE SMILED POLITELY. SHE’D NEVER CALL. FOR SOME REASON, I’D JUST NEEDED ONE MORE OPPORTUNITY TO PUT MYSELF OUT THERE AS A LOSER.