Today the snarky English teacher got on her bike to take a ride. She wore her straw hat with the brim she can see through. A hat with a brim is like a revolver but less lethal. It is defense. When the snarky English teacher doesn’t want to see someone, she pulls it down. When she doesn’t want comments, alleged flattery or not, she pulls it down. When she wants to think, she pulls it down.
But she has to remember to look through the weave, especially when on a bike.
There is an old guy across the street. He lives alone. Let’s call him Jeb. Jeb likes to run water into the gutter, waiting to see who will come out and talk to him. Sometimes a rather hefty friend on a motorcycle obliges. Often the stalwart postal carrier will take out his or her earphones and oblige. If they don’t oblige, Jeb shouts comments to anyone within earshot because he is lonely. He could join a club and make friends that way, but it is really none of the snarky English teacher’s concern. Too much friendliness invites stupid comments.
Today was a case in point. Normally if she sees him wave, kindness forces her to wave back, although the lady directly across the street is really good at never seeing anyone and never having to wave back. You might call it a gift.
The snarky English teacher is not as gifted as the lady who lives directly across from her. She launches her bike into the peaceful street. There is a sudden shout:
“I COULD HAVE GAVE YOU EXERCISE!”
Was it a good idea to look? He was pointing at the new hose. He could have been pointing to something more vulgar than a hose.
“HAVE GIVEN?” She replies, feeling snarky.
That was hardly the withering comment he deserved. Doubtless he doesn’t get it.
Silence would have been better.
Next time, she resolves to ignore him completely and do like the lady across the street.