MonkeyPants

Night Driving.

So last night and tonight I’ve been out changing parking decals on the Co-op’s cars. That’s why this is so late. I’m winding down from three hours of drive, search, scrape, spray, search, stick, lockup and leave. I did nine cars tonight, which is better than seven, last night. But I thought I could do more.

Anyway, here’s what I found out: I talk to myself. A lot. And to animals. And to inanimate objects.

Here’s the script for the decal and trip log removal process:

“Okay, here’s the evil scraper.” (To myself)

“God, you’re stubborn.” (To the decal)

“Okay, now caustic spray.” (To myself)

“Eww, car bogies.” (To myself as the decal goo came off. It’s gross.)

“Trip logs, where are you?” (To the trip logs. Like they were going to say, ‘Here we are, Liz!’)

“Okay, pen, two new trip logs.” (Random counting, to myself)

“Hey, this isn’t even perforated. Those decal people are fuckers!” (To myself)

“You’re a little crooked. Jaunty. Yeah, Jaunty. That’s okay.” (To the decal)

And walking about looking for cars that were supposed to be there but weren’t? I’m talking to the animals, to the night, to the cars.

“Hello, raccoon family. I see you. No eating any cats tonight, okay?”

“Oooh, there you are, Walnut! I see you!” (Walnut Street is one of the car locations)

“Prrrrou! (I have been learning Cat language. I greeted the cat with an ‘I see you and am happy’ cat greeting) Hey kitty kitty. Be careful, there are raccoons around.”

“You’re not a Co-op car. We’re not a Mercedes kind of company.”

“Why the hell isn’t there anywhere to pee around here?”

I wonder how much I talk to myself when there are other people around. Because from what I have observed over the past couple of nights? I’m past eccentric and accelerating fast towards straitjacket turf.