How to Ruin the Perfect Run AND Ruin Your Faith in Humanity in 30 Minutes
Today was the perfect running day in North Georgia. 45 degrees, no wind, beautiful fall foliage. I planned to do 12 miles. About 8 miles into the run I get a scam telemarketing call. They spoof a cell number with the same area code and exchange (NPA-NXX in telco lingo), making it look like a familiar number. They're robo-calls but they seem to interact with your responses. It's always either the robo-woman who has a problem with her headset or the robo-guy asking for Chrissie.
While getting my phone out of the pouch, I dropped my car key. It immediately disappeared in the grass and leaves. I spent 30 minutes on my hands and knees and could not find it. Luckily, DW was at home, so she was able to drop off a spare key at the car without too much hassle for her or me.
To Mr. Telemarketer: you take advantage of human nature to sell your ripoff product. I hope you spend eternity with a rock in your shoe, chafing underwear, and listening to 'It's a Small World' non-stop. And you mistake the capsaicin cream for Body Glide.
During the 30 minutes I spent on my hands and knees, at least 50 cars passed me. Not one stopped to see if I needed help. Most of them didn't even slow down or move over. I've run the same Saturday route for about 15 years, so I have to believe some of these people (if not most) have seen me running. I know people fake car trouble to rob people, but I'm in hi-visibility clothes, on my hands and knees, with no vehicle nearby. Wouldn't someone stop to see if I needed help?
For the 50 people that passed me and didn't stop: you don't deserve the same punishment as Mr. Telemarketer. I hope you get a hair in your food and step in a puddle in the kitchen and have to have soggy socks all day.
I still managed to get 9.5 miles in. I'll be going out this afternoon with a rake to see if I can find the key.
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