Rebellion

biker by the dead lake alone

I look up in my wandering and see a man on his bike.

He notices me and emits  a cheerful “Good Morning”. I say the same back and feel a social unspoken rule has been broken. Nobody ever speaks to another in the desert. We are all protected by a sense of personal space.

bikers and dead lake desert black and white

All it takes is somebody who doesn’t conform and we are all in danger.

I wonder if I could become a non-conformist?

Rare

If We Were Having Coffee…

coffee chat

If you were to sit next to me right now, with an equally grande sized latte, I would be eternally grateful.

Not because I need a partner in crime so that I don’t feel so incredibly greedy drinking this giant cup of a morning, but because of a recent incident on the bus.

I would ask you, after gently prying to ensure you are not such type a person, why it is that some mothers, in public, indulge in swearing profusely at their children.

They seem to do it in order to make said child  less noisy, all the while drawing  the commuters attentions (which the children had failed to attract) to their own high pitched and filthily embellished orders.

It also worries me that they can turn it on and off so quickly… As if it is all really an act and in no way a natural human’s occasional lack of emotional control.

The kind of thing I was all too familiar with in customer service call centers where the person on the other end of the line was audibly hyperventilating in anger and frustration (or so I used to believe).

At first I felt really bad for the children…

And then i realized that the children themselves were entirely not phased by it. Is it just me? Am I too sensitive?

 

#WeekendCoffeeShare