Yesterday, my sister and I were walking around the park near my house. She had her three young’ns, I my two hounds. The ground was really slushy, but for the first time in days, the sun shone in the sky, and I felt comfortable walking in my yoga pants and hoodie. A few folks had the same idea as we did: kids scampered up and down the play structure and squealed; a woman speed-walked on the paved loop; and three skateboarding high-schoolers stood yakking in front of the water fountains.
I was only somewhat aware of the teens, until I was loading the dogs up into the back of my car. I had my back to them when I heard one of them say, “Look at that FAT ass.” I turned to see him staring at me, smiling, with bright eyes. Another of the boys took off on his skateboard, yelling, “My DICK wants to be in THAT.”
So here’s what I did. I shook my head, gave them a withering look, and said, “Pathetic.”
Wait, no. I walked over and excoriated them with Shakespearean insults.
No, no. That’s not it. I beckoned sexily to the first speaker, only to knee him in the balls, grab him by the hair, and smash his skull against the picnic table.
Oh, wait. No, I remember. I didn’t say a thing, maneuvered my body around my car such that I was out of their line of sight, went home, and binge ate. That’s right. That’s what I did.