Poverty Is Not an Accident

Poverty Is Not an Accident
Nelson Mandela

Wednesday, November 26, 2003

Damn

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It happened just as I predicted, and just where I'd imagined.

I got a flat on my back tire on Edith Street, about three miles from home.

I couldn't get the fix-a-flat nozzel onto the valve stem. So, I folded up the scooter, took off the seat, put it in the stroller and walked it home. It was uphill most of the way.

Porkchop was a real sport about it, considering he was walking three-legged most of the way, because of all the goat heads everywhere. Poor guy!

We took only one, real break: in front of the convenience store, about four blocks from my house.

I broke down and bought four dollar burgers at Wendy's.

The busses won't run tomorrow, because of Thanksgiving, so we'll be stranded. I only have enough turkey left for two more meals.

I bought a 2 liter bottle of Coke on sale for a dollar, too.

It was quite windy out. My lips got chapped and my spit was thick. I was pretty dehydrated and very hungry by the time I got to that store.

Porkchop knew it when we got about a mile from the house, even though we took a route we've never taken before. He took the lead and trotted ahead, meaning business. He wanted to go to sleep. He had four water breaks on the way home. I had none.

He's at my feet, snoring peacefully.

As we came up the alley, I saw a big, black plastic trash bag, next to the dumpster next door to me. That's always a good sign. Someone in that apartment leaves out decent food (earlier this year, I found a frozen turkey!). I've gotten a lot of canned and dry goods that way.

Well, the bag was TEN pair of sweat pants! Brand new; the fleece is still fleecy; with pockets; they're my size. They smell freshly washed.

Usually, I'd throw them in the washer before wearing them, but I know they're clean. I'm wearing a pair on my aching, throbbing legs right now.

Normally, I'd have to sew up crotches, clean stains, sew holes, etc. in sweats; people don't usually throw them out until they're not fit for cleaning rags.

Sweats and stretch pants are the only pants I can wear. My genitals are mutilated; my mother tried to tear them off with her fingernails when I was very young. Non-stretchy pants are too stiff in the crotch and cause me a great deal of pain. So, I mostly wear skirts and dresses. But, on REALLY cold days, my legs are always cold in even the thickest, longest skirts.

And I can't wear skirts on the scooter.

I'm too tired now. But tomorrow, I'll take that back tire off and survey the damage.

I'm thinking of forgetting about replacing the inner tube. I ride near the shoulders of the roads and on sidewalks, occasionally. I'm always dodging bottles, broken car glass, stickers, etc. I really need a tubeless tire, especially because it's the back, which takes the most weight.

But I won't be able to buy anything online from eBay or a manufacturer for months; I just won't have the money.

So, in the mean time, I'm thinking of stuffing the tire with something: perhaps towels, wrapped around a "donut" of hard foam rubber, or something. I wish there were some sort of self-healing gel innertube I could use that doesn't deflate. I avoid pot holes and bumps, so I don't need the shock absorbing quality of air too much.

I'm grounded until I can either patch the tube, find a replacement locally, or invent a substitute.

There's another grocery, on the main bus line that's two blocks from my house, which sells the same cheap turkeys and stuff this week. I'll have to go there.

Porkchop rode in the cart most of the way until we had the flat, so he didn't have to run or walk six, whole miles. He only walked a little over three. And my pace is slow, so it doesn't wear him out to walk with me.

But I know he's just as glad to be home as I am.

Hopefully, my legs will thaw out in these sweats. My butt's cold again!

I think I need a nap and probably a good cry. I was really looking forward to another turkey for tomorrow!

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