Sunday, April 13, 2008

Maybe worm poo is the answer to all things

It sure isn't spittle. Which brings us to,

The Question of the Week

You are at work, when you notice a person having difficulty working the new, "technically sophisticated" storage lockers. Being the fab, phenom employee that you are, you go to the assist; because life is more then wiping sweat and dust off of treadmills.

"Yes, mam, you have to close the locker before you lock it. That's it." Conversation ensues. But conversation doesn't matter as the only salient point is that spittle is flying. Everywhere. Um hm, I trained you. Yes, you should follow up with me.......eeeeee."

Spittle on the cheek? Ok. Spittle on the chin? Well a little precarious, but we are still ok. But then that flagrant, foul drop hits a perfect trajectory...and lands on your lip.

You:

A) Run screaming to the eye wash fountain in the janitor closet, only to be retarded mid stride by the recollection that the eyewash is merely that- water to wash the eyes. And this isn't your eye, this is your lip, which guards the orafice by which all things travel to and from your body. You opt for chugging bleach instead.

B) Grow up Trimama, you exchange bodily fluids with Tac Boy all the time.

C) But this isn't Tac Boy, where's the bleach?

D) Did you know that, like, 70% of dust we inhale and exhale every day is really skin cells that have sloughed off of other people?

E) I'm going permanent SARS mask from this point forward

F) How can this be coming from a woman who has wiped butts and noses for more then a decade?

G) Go ahead, fill in the blank


I saw in a documentary that worm poo is really great for growing marijuana....and other things. I'm not sure what "other" things are, but the guy from Princeton who invented worm poo is making a lot of money turning other folks garbage into fertilizer. Not a bad gig if you can get it.

Enough about poo, for I have sinned. Perhaps not mortal, but certainly grievous. What? Did I miss the latest download of The Tac Boy and Bigun show? No, worse. Leaving the feverish Tac (who happens to be an Ironman) at home, I bundled up (bundling because it is still so cold here that I switched my iphone weather gauge to celcius; somehow 1 degree here isn't quite so awful when it is only 28 in Tempe- so long as we are all freezing I'm good) The Tribe and departed for the local burger joint. For no odd reason, I donned my Ironman Finisher fleece. Now, in the Tac Boy/Trimama life of yin and yang, I am the IM recluse to Tac Boy's Schwag Whore. My tattoo remains hidden, and my schwag wear is limited, apparently to blustery days out with The Tribe. I sit my "single mom" arse down at the burger joint and proceed to dine with The Tribe. At some point in the evening, I catch a glimpse of the bright red "M" across the room. Just a simple white shirt, on a handsome, athlete, age grouper of a guy. Now we are easily within each other's eye shot. He could no more miss my "M" as I could miss his. And I knew, at some point it would happen. Our eyes would meet, a slight nod, and in typical Minnesota fashion, the subtle wave. We just acknowledge people in our clans up here. And we were in each other's 140.6 miles clan. You know it's coming. It's a sixth sense understanding. I glanced up, our eyes brushed in contact.....and I balked! I looked away! I denied this fellow athlete his due. At that one moment, feeling much more conscious of mama then Trimama, I felt sub iron. I felt that to put myself in this guys league was to defame the name and spirit of the athlete. I really need to get out more. Perhaps I really need to get out on my bike more. So, white shirt Ironman Guy at local burger joint, I'm sorry, really, truly sorry. Wave, wave. (was that second wave overkill?)

Ok, so I stopped by my local bike shop to pick up new cleats and shades. It's 65 wonderful degrees tomorrow and other then the fact that it is bloody tax day, I have no excuse for not getting my skittish, ridiculous self out on a bike tomorrow. Wish me luck, and if you encounter me on the trail, well, don't worry if I don't wave, I'll be white knuckling this maiden voyage of the new knee until it's done. I'm such a wuss.

11 comments:

LBTEPA said...

Your question - E!
Good luck on your bike tomorrow - the first time will be the worst. Then you can start enjoying yourself again

Lana said...

C. Most definitely C.

I bet you would kick white shit/red M guy's butt off the course, girl. No need to balk when you are the one and only Trimama!! I agree, though, a nice bike ride should fix the problem.

Bigun said...

non-contact, non-concentual intra body fluid exchanges always gross me out. Like that time me 'n Tacboy were...well, nevermind...

IronTriTim said...

You didn't acknowledge the IM mark... I am shocked. How did Tac respond. Afraid I'm under the IM schwag banner, makes my day when someone asks and I get to tell them all about triathlon.

Ryan said...

A and E

Maybe there was no white shirt M guy.

Maybe the marajuana you smoked had some bad worm poo in it?

Were you REALLY hungry at the fast food place?

Yep, thought so!

Fe-lady said...

Hope you had a good ride!
Don't worry...the handsome Ironman dude KNOWS you were preoccupied with the tribe and he probablyl has forgiven you.
And as for the spittle thing. I get spit on every time I go into work. Or have boogers wiped on me, or something. I was NOT SICK this whole winter...look at it as building immunities!

Fe-lady said...

HA....I just read BIGUN's comment!
They ARE a pair, aren't they? (But I am not saying of what...!)

triguyjt said...

"IM recluse to Tac Boys Schwag Whore"

hilarious....
almost spit out the coffee!!

Probably should have..coffee at ten is not smart..

signed
"Wide Awake TriGuyJt"

tarheeltri said...

To steal a saying from the Marines, "Once an Ironman, Always an Ironman." Being both (a Marine and an Ironman) I can relate to this post. I never felt my Ironman experience was that transformative but my experience becoming a Marine was. It's hard for me still to look at a Marine (particulary one who has been in combat since I was not) and feel like I'm really part of that club. But as I said, the Marines have a saying... Once a Marine, Always a Marine. Same goes with Ironman. Maybe you're not the same as the guy in the white t-shirt like I'm not the same as a Marine who has been to war... but you are in the same league for sure.

Wes said...

Ewww! I don't want to even think about getting showered with spittle. Hope your ride went well!!

TJ said...

Nothin worse than a little strange spittle in the middle of your mouth. LOL!

Hope you had a good ride in the warm weather.