On my way back from my run. Tired, sweaty, it’s been hard and slow because of the heat, and because I can literally see the pollen in the air, feel the grittiness in my nose and throat and eyes, in spite of the drug I take to combat my allergies. Have you ever seen a picture of a pollen? It’s all spikes and hooks and sharp edges. It’s no wonder they’re irritating. I’m surprised more people aren’t allergic to them.
I’m three blocks from my finish line, and I’m passing a blue car I’ve seen before. On the back is an oval sticker for the Rose City Rollers, a local group of hot women roller-derby-ists. Derby-ers?
As I’m approaching the car, an attractive brunette girl is walking out of the house this blue be-stickered car is parked at. She’s wearing a flowing long skirt in a tie-dye pattern, and a loose shift open in the back showing her tanned back. She’s wearing the huge round sunglasses that are so fashionable right now, white plastic rims. And she’s leading a tiny little dog on a leash.
I slow to a stop in the middle of the street and look at her. She’s walking the dog and ignoring me.
“Is that your car?” I ask, loud enough to catch her attention.
“It’s my roommates,” she says cautiously.
“Oh, I just saw the,” I make an oval shape with both hands “sticker on the back.” She smiles, I continue. “For the Rose City Rollers.” I smile now that she’s not so guarded.
The girl nods. “Yeah, she used to be on the Guns N Rollers.” A chirping starts and she pulls out a cell phone, checks the screen, starts to open it.
I give her a thumb’s up and start running again. “I just wanted to say I’m a fan!” I call over my shoulder.
She waves at me as I go.