After downing a couple shots of Jamba Juice, listening to the band play TLC’s “No Scrub”, and collecting my belongings, it was time to go home.
“Don’t even think about taking a cab,” I told myself as punishment for not having run the full marathon. I started the long walk home, block upon block upon block. The blocks went quickly as I reminisced more about my years living in San Francisco.
While stopped at the intersection of Lincoln and 19th Avenue, a truck pulls over. This good-looking guy gets out and tells me he thinks it’s so great that I ran the race. “You look great. Congratulations. What an accomplishment. You really look great!”
“Thanks,” I smile. “That’s nice of you to pull over and tell me.” I don’t give his compliments too much credence as a number of people have yelled out their congratulations either in passing me by on the sidewalk or in their cars. San Francisco’s such a good city. Always looking out for their athletes. Besides, I can’t look too great. I’ve got at least five films of sweat pasted all over my body. My head of hair has been transformed into a wild nest of stray sweaty strands. It’s disgusting. I can’t wait to get home and take a long hot shower.
I walk another two blocks and I can see the same truck coming towards me out of the corner of my eye. “Uh-oh, here we go. Let’s see what he’s going to say,” I know he’s going to ask me out.
As predicted, the guy jumps out of his car and walks over to me. “Hey, you’re not going to believe the illegal moves I made to come back here and talk to you. I want to take you out. Whatever you want. Dinner, drinks. What do you say?”
At any other time, I would have said yes. But it just felt all wrong. It was early in the morning. I’m still sick. I just came off a two hour run. I felt disgusting. It was all so sudden. I felt rather caught off-guard. So I did what I shouldn’t have. I lied.
“Oh, I’ve got a boyfriend.”
“Well of course you do. I knew it. A pretty girl like you. I knew it. I just had to ask. You’re a beautiful girl.” He stands there for a couple more seconds, then concludes, “Well, take care.”
I thanked him again, watched him get back in his truck, waved, and gave him the biggest smile I could.