It was really nice to gtfo of Orlando for a few days. I had gone from Miami to Pompano, back to Miami, then to the Keys. But now, I am back at work. And being back at work means being back here, at Lake Eola, the Lake of Death.
It happened almost like clockwork when I went for a stroll despite the sprinkling. There had been a dude in one of those yellow construction vests ready to shout. It was like he was chomping at the bit to be an asshole.
"Hey mama, where you going?"
So I promptly kept my eyes ahead of me and then slightly turned back to give him the finger.
"Whoa! Did you hear me? I'm talking to you. HELLO. DID YOU HEAR WHAT I ASKED?"
And just like that, I was no longer in the Keys sipping fruity drinks with naive abandon - I was back in Shitsville, getting harassed for walking the lake during my lunch break.