Arkansas Stoplight

To all of you who follow this blog, sorry for not posting anything. I think of things to write and jot them down, even get excited about them, then I don't ever seem to get it done. It is something I think about quite often, it's just one of those things that has kind of been trimmed out recently, like setting my status on facebook. One of these days I will get back to writing regularly, and I thank you so much, those of you who still check even though you're fairly certain there will be nothing here. As for right now, since I am writing, here's something that happened today:

When I pull up to a stoplight I always turn my radio down, quit singing, and try to act as casual as possible. There is something awkward about a stoplight to me, like showing up to a function wearing the same shirt as someone else. Like, "oh, hey there, you got stuck at this light too, huh?"

As of recently I've been listening to "Uhh Yeah Dude." It's a podcast, a weekly roundup of America through the eyes of two American Americans. It's funny. So even though I wasn't singing along when I pulled up to the light on Parkway and Detroit, I turned the radio down out of habit. My drivers side window was down and an old blue truck pulled up next to me and from the passenger window of that truck came a whistle. One of those "hey pretty la-dy" whistles. I completely froze. I've been whistled at before on occasion, but it was always when I was walking and the whistler was driving or something like that where the interaction, by necessity, could only last about half a second and I was not obligated to respond in any way. But NEVER at a stoplight for goodness sake. What in the world did this whistler expect from me? Do I turn and smile? Do I flip him the bird and make an angry right-hand turn? Whistle back? Roll up the window? What he got from me was me sitting there, staring straight ahead pretending not to hear what he knew I had heard, trying to look as casual as possible while obviously trying to figure out how to respond to this. The light was the longest light ever and when it finally turned green I drove off without ever turning my head. Or taking a breath.

When I got a safe distance I turned the radio up just as one of the guys, Seth, was saying "Um, am I going to die in this Urban Outfitters?" and I burst out laughing, just as I looked into my side-view mirror. What I saw in my side-view mirror was the old blue truck crammed with cowboys, looking right at me laughing. I don't know how men are in other states, but in Arkansas men act decisively at the slightest provocation, and being laughed at by a woman is not slight. Luckily my turn was coming up and I headed on my way only imagining the cussing I was getting in the cab of that truck.

...It's not much, but it's all I've got for now. Thanks for reading, guys.