Ginger came over yesterday to see the two puppies I'm fostering and- after a great deal of ridicule and calling her a pansy- to go for a bike ride. I don't know why she puts up a fuss. She's in much better shape and I am.
We headed to downtown Lakeland for our first stop- The Ledger. I needed a copy of the Polk County Business Journal. As we rode down Rose Street and under the Bartow Road overpass, we saw a man with a bicycle sitting on one of the benches. This may come as a shocker to some, but I'm actually a friendly sort. I say hello to people. Even to the homeless people, when I know they will use it as an opportunity to ask me for money. Too bad they don't have Internet access; they'd know how much spare change means to me.
Anyway, as we passed this man, a youngish man who didn't look homeless, I said hello and he said hello back. We continued our ride and finally wound up at McDonald's, where Ginger got her daily fix- two orders of cinnamon melts to go.
We parted ways on Edgewood Avenue and I headed home. As I approached the corner at the end of my street, who do I see standing in a neighbor's yard, but the youngish guy from under the overpass. Again, this may come as another shocker, but sometimes my friendliness acts on itself before good sense kicks in.
I throw my arm up in the air and wave wildly, smiling largely and yelling, "Hey, didn't I just see you downtown?" He didn't hear me, so I had to slow my bike a little bit and repeat myself.
He said, "Yeah, probably. I had to go to stewpid probation."
(Red alert! Red alert! Just ride away, Lorrie!)
I said, "Oh, well I thought I recognized you, so I was just saying 'hi' again!"
I started to ride off, and he said, "Well hold on a minute...what's your name?"
I started to freak out inside. Flashes of too many Lifetime movies raced through my head.
"No, no... I was just saying hello. Have a good day!" I said. But really I was saying that to the pavement in front of me, because all that guy saw was the back of me as I raced from the scene- and straight to a neighbor's house.
I knew Cheryl might be home, and I had to ask her a Stampin' Up question (she sells it). I figured now was as good a time as any.
While we were visiting, I shared my biking story with her, and she said, "Oh no, now he knows where you live!"
I said, "No he doesn't. I came straight to your house!"