Chicken

The funniest thing happened to me on the way into work. I had come off the freeway, turned left on 38th Avenue like I’d done for the last thirty-two years. As I stopped at the first stop sign past the church on my right, I spotted what looked like one of those shopping cart trains I’ve written about before, pulled or pushed by the bottom rung of our neighborhood economic ladder. I drove on through the intersection. Drawing closer, I saw a small Asian woman in boots, gloves, flop hat, and flamboyantly pastel pants and blouse. She tugged her train along in the center of my lane, doing an incredibly good imitation of Humphrey Bogart hauling the African Queen through the jungle swamp. Usually, the Hobo carts immediately shift to the roadside as traffic comes. I’m slowing with cars stacking up behind me, and the Queen giving me the ‘what in hell are you doing in my way look’. This does not provoke me to road rage with violent intent to smash the oncoming Hobo train. My first thought was I wish I had my digital camera up in the front seat with me. Ms. Bogart finally gives me a twisted disgusted look, and yanks the train over to the side. She may have flipped me off, but the gloves were so big on her hands, I couldn’t tell if the middle finger extended beyond the others as Ms. Bogart gave me a quick hand gesture. Ahhhhh… to have lived so long without playing chicken with a Hobo cart before. :)