One Scoop of Humility, Please

So I'm finally getting into shape. And to celebrate this, I've decided to start running with my shirt off. I thought it was a good way to show confidence. Thought is the operative word here...

YESTERDAY:
I had just finished getting my quads in a tizzy at cycling class. And the yoga class wasn't until 7pm. There was plenty of time to squeeze in my 4 miles for the day, so I took off the shirt and started running towards the turnaround point. The run started well enough, and I didn't get any honks/hollers. This made my day, because I absolutely abhor it when men think that a nice long blaring honk will get them in my running shorts. In my 10 years as a runner, it has never worked.

I ran down through an old neighborhood, and tried to hide from a couple of old men who were talking in a driveway. I didn't want to be a "stumbling block". Hiding proved fruitless due to the fact that there weren't any shrubs or trees. In the end, I just decided to run faster to get by as quick as possible. You might wonder, why run shirtless if you don't want to be noticed? It's too dang hot in Georgia this time of the year. That's why! And I like the freedom that comes from feeling the air as I cut thought it. Also, I'm working hard and in good form... why not act like a competitive runner who takes her shirt off?

Five minutes into the run, I heard the faint sounds of a carousel. It sounded like it was coming from a few streets over. Gradually it grew clearer until it came out from behind a house. It was the ice cream man! His modified, old-school mail jeep had the typical "Cotton-Eyed Joe" playing in an atypical warped pitch. Try to imagine what music sounds like after dropping acid. I can't tell you, because I've never done it. But I guess that's what his music sounded like.

He passed me, but I didn't make eye contact. And I ran a few more minutes. Then I heard that trippy circus music coming again. The ice cream man came from a side street and surprised me. Again, I didn't make eye contact. In my heart, however, I thought, "This guy must be checking me out in his ghetto ice cream jeep."

Mile 2: The ice cream man made yet another pass at me. This time I thought that the guy must be using the ice cream man persona as a guise to pick up chicks. So I turned, in frustration, to face my stalker. IT WAS A WOMAN! Oh man, I felt the shame then. I had thought that a man was stalking me because he found me appealing to the eye. And come to find out, the ice cream man was just a regular woman trying to make an honest living. That instant blew all of my pride into the ditch. I thought that I had gotten my old charm back. And that is not a small thing after being single without any real prospects for almost a year.

Now I laugh, but then I did not. And the shirt went back on.