Bella has been continuing her northern reconnaissance this week of the Sacramento neighborhood called Richmond Grove. On Tuesday night, we went as far as Ernesto’s Mexican Food Restaurant, at S & 16th (round trip: 2.6 miles). Last night, we traveled even farther north, along P Street (round trip: 3.1 miles). Typically we walk from 12:45 to 2:15 a.m.
Tuesday night felt kind of creepy. A coughing, skinny, long-haired blonde dumpster diver guy followed us for a time, but since he kept his distance, I wasn’t worried. We passed by a fellow sleeping in the middle of the sidewalk (how does anyone do that?) and we said hello to a bearded fellow who had gotten out of his wheelchair and was leaning against the wall, either on his knees, or on stumps. (How did Peter Dinklage end up here?)
I’ve been puzzling why torn cardboard litters the ground outside a local ice cream parlor. Pizza box tops, mostly. Looks like a homeless sleeping pad, but they’ve recently put up signs saying planting is in progress. Which just begs the question, what the heck is being planted that requires littering the ground with cardboard, and what business would put up with that?
At one point, we heard a clatter in the street as a lout sailed drunkenly around the corner in his white sedan (U & 23rd St.). The plastic shell of his driver’s side rear-view mirror had detached and fallen into the street. How does that happen? Cars disintegrating mid-trip?
Wednesday night was much friendlier, although it started off badly. A teenage girl was peeing against a fence two houses down the alley from my house, so I called the police. Not even a homeless person; probably a nearby resident. WTF? Gotta have standards, you know? This is a nice neighborhood!
Two guys in their 30’s stepped out of a bar and said hello to Bella. At first, she ignored them, so one said “What’s wrong? Come to me! I’m a human!” I apologized for her, and said the problem was he didn’t smell like a cat.
Bella and I were walking along Broadway when Sk8er Grrrl zoomed past on her skateboard. She pointed, and laughed, and said “Pooper scooper?” Pointing at Bella, I nodded and said “Yes, gotta keep up with her!” She laughed again, and vanished into the night.
A few minutes later, though, Sk8er Grrrl came back, and stopped. She was carrying a Little Caesar’s pizza box under her arm. “Is there a pizza in there?” I asked. “Sure. Want some?” she replied. I said, “No, I was just wondering if it’s a good idea to carry it that way.” She said, “You should see what it’s like when I go shopping on the skateboard – carrying all those bags!” Very friendly. She was 43 - had two kids.
Turned out, Sk8er Grrrl once had a Black Lab. “Such a smart dog!” she said. “I LOVE Black Labs!” We talked about skateboards, and weird injuries, like the broken ankle she once got skateboarding. I could only complain about my recent dislocated knuckle, which fortunately had popped back in. I told her that I purchased a skateboard just 16 months ago, but all I could manage to do on it was fall down (hinting I need tutoring). But her pizza was getting cold and Bella had just spotted a cat, so we both went our separate ways and vanished into the darkness.
Sk8er Girl is the album, but Sk8er Boi is the song:
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