5.5.03. 2pm.
a little hustle.
this morning i had a job at a high school. i got there early, so i sat outside and watched a boys PE class play softball on the grass field. most of them weren't very good, but it was interesting to watch. their coach was pitcher for both teams - thank heavens, or no one would have ever got a hit. everytime the outfield came in at the end of an inning, they had to give their gloves to the other team. a couple of the players were pretty good - one of the teams' infields actually seemed to know what they were doing. but there were lots of times a fly ball would bounce of someone's glove, and there were a bunch of plays where everything seemed done, but then another runner would take off for the next base, and there'd be a flurry of gangly activity, and then another pause, and then another runner would go.
there was one kid, wearing a grey t-shirt and red shorts, who got a lot of shit from the other team. he wasn't huge, but he was overweight, and the other team called him fat. he was definately the worst hitter i saw on the field, and his best run was a slow trot. one fly ball came about five feet from him, and three other guys ran for it, and he didn't move at all. at least his own team wasn't giving him a hard time.
remember those kids in high school and, god help us, middle school? remembering being that kid? well, for most of us there was another kid who was that kid, and saved us. but i know i felt like i was that kid inside, and was just hoping no one would find out. i tried to look like i was playing well, even if i wasn't actually playing well at all, and wasn't at all excited to be there.
i felt sorry for the kid in red shorts, and thought maybe if i concentrated hard enough he might get a hit. and he did hit a nice grounder towards third base, and actually made it to first. but in an ill-advised burst of ambition, he tried to take second, and the second baseman easily ran him down and tagged him out. it was... a shame.
in other news, i missed my exit on the highway on the way back, and got off to turn around. but then i thought that perhaps a more direct/more scenic route could be found back to providence, and sure enough, the map told me that 44, which i was mildly sure i had exitted onto, went straight to providence. i pulled up next to a seventeen year old kid wearing a basketball shirt and fixing a sign on a house, and rolled down the window. "hey," i hollered, "is this 44?" "yeah," he yelled back. "which way is west?" "i have no idea. where are you trying to get to?" "providence." "oh," he said, "wrong 44." he then proceded to give me complex directions on getting to the right route 44. which leads me to wonder: how many 44's are there in massachusettes? i thought you numbered the routes so that sort of thing didn't happen...
so i ended up taking 495 north, which i drive by a lot and which always has signs warning you about construction and traffic. i mean, even at four in the morning (i've been there) there are signs saying "traffic due to construction." but today i had to get on it, and the flashing sign said "495N construction ahead: seek alternate route." i found that very zen of the DMV, or whoever puts up traffic signs. not simply informing me of the problem, and not enforcing another course of action; no, they simply advised that i consider my options. usually a sign would say that the route is closed entirely, and tell me an alternate route to take. instead, someone considerate said "hey, here's a head's up on what you're about to drive through - if speed or serenity is your goal, you might want to seek an alternate route." how kind of them.
the ironic thing was, there was no traffic or construction at all.