Today, I’m driving home from picking up some grub. My husband is out of town at the moment – we’re both stagehands, so this isn’t too terribly infrequent, although it does annoy me when it happens – so it was just me.
I turn on to Northridge Drive, which is the main thoroughfare through this yuppy subdevelopment that I cut through to get to MY house, on the poor end of town. I glance over and I spy a woman in a jumpsuit. I take note of the fact that she’s what one would consider elderly, perhaps in her mid-sixties. She is standing in what I hope is her yard, and not some other random person’s yard.
And she is hacking away at it with a pickaxe.
This left me with more questions than could be answered, and I was not about to stop and ask her why she was hacking at flora with a mining tool, because I have a healthy respect for what my body can and cannot take, and one thing it definitely cannot take is a pickaxe to the skull. And this woman was using the pickaxe to…do whatever it was she was doing…and she was using it like she fucking knew how to use it. No fucking way, Jose.
Worse than witnessing this is the fact that I had no one with me to verify that I had, indeed, just seen what I thought I had seen. My DOG wasn’t even in the car with me. It was just me. And I suspect that it’ll never happen again, although I am tempted to go see if there are still huge gouge-marks in the lawn she pickaxed to death.
Mostly, I’m wondering if this is the inevitable fate left to all yuppies. Do they all invariably succumb to the madness of lawn destruction once the economy fails and they can no longer afford to have more than basic extended cable?
You guys can see that I do not make this shit up. Weird things find me. They seek me out. I have absolutely no fucking control over it.
