We're having a little bit of a warm snap. I wouldn't call it a heat wave. It's August. In August, it's hot in California. It's not a "wave". It's just weather.
As I've told you, ad infinitum, I moved this year. My job is now a half hour away instead of 15 minutes, and that makes for a long drive when it's hot. And yes, I have AC, but with the price of gas, I'm pinching every penny, so I choose not to turn it on.
It might be the heat, or the boredom, but the last two weeks or so, the ride home has been interesting. I have experienced:
A man on a black and yellow bike, wearing a matching black and yellow leather outfit zoom up to speed and pop a wheelie for the length of at least a city block.
An older woman in a cube shaped vehicle decked out in a plethora of Hello Kitty gear.
A yellowjacket landing on one of my windshield wipers and accompanying me on my journey for about half a mile.
The waft of a woman's Aqua net drifting over from the car next to me.
I also smelled a pachouli that reminded me so strongly of 1970's oil-infused car air freshener's I could have wept. I wished I could get in a wayback machine, and jump in my sister's van heading for the Santa Cruz Raceway. Fast cars, nachos and the roar of the crowd. Except she was with a complete asshole at the time and he'd probably be there, too.
Numerous mosquito sized aircraft coming in for a landing at the airport. They wobble. It's disturbing.
I found the drive-through's to be incredibly alluring... probably because I didn't want to cook, and a tall cold Diet Coke would have been nice. However, I'm totally broke, so I passed them by, all their greasy promises and tall plastic cups full of ice and dripping in condensation left unaquired. But as for tomorrow... I promise nothing....