Somebody Else's Problem
About 4:45 today, I found myself lost in a reverie, watching a steady stream of cars whose lucky owners had the foresight to come in half an hour or more earlier than I did, or to take a short lunch. The day was bright and sunny. My cubicle window overlooks the service road between two of our three buildings on campus. It turns off Riverside next to the Kwik-E-Mart, and leads to the back parking lot of the Statesman, and to the hike-and-bike trail. All day long, not only cars, but joggers and walkers (with and without strollers and/or dogs) and bicyclists stream by underneath my window. It's enough to make a desk-bound girl a little punchy.
Have you ever noticed how some people wear exercise gear that's a little too close to their skin tone? So that, if you don't look carefully, you might get the impression they weren't even WEARING exercise gear?
Just such a one pedaled happily by under my window today, making me smile a little. Until I looked a little more closely. And saw some anatomy. And - "Oh, my, God," I said, "Oh, my God!" Yes, cycling down from the hike-and-bike trail and into the back parking lot* of the building across the service road was a straight-up, ain't-no-denyin', no-two-ways-about-it, buck-nekkid dude.
I watched him pedal away in some bemusement. Is that legal? was one question on my mind. Another was, how far of a head start does he have before it's time for me to leave? Because, you know, I'm fairly busy at work these days. When I bike home, I'm actually kind of tired. I just don't think I'd be able to do justice to a naked man at 5:15 on a Monday afternoon.
Then again, I only really saw him from behind.