As I ran today out at the Wolf River Greenway, I heard the obnoxious voice of a girl who had to be somewhere in her tweens. She was on a bike exclaiming "there's a hill! WHEEE!" as she rode along.
My first thought was that her enthusiasm came from an attempt to encourage a younger child. I was wrong.
She was with her mother and a man I assume was her father. Neither female addressed him and he spoke only to the friendly golden retriever running alongside him, but he was in the same path as the two bike riders.
The tween I'll call Princess-in-training, or PIT for short.
There's a little explanation behind the "Princess" moniker:
One day as I was running out at Shelby Farms with headphones in, I ran past a couple enjoying the outdoors by Patriot Lake. They were kind enough to take up the entire path and moved at a pace no faster than a saunter.
The feminine half of the couple was an unnatural dark orange hue. Her skin wasn't leathery, but it was certainly tanned. On top of that, I imagine she had to have used some sort of self-tanner because there was a very noticeable orange tint that doesn't come from simple sun-worship or from tanning bed use.
As I passed by this couple, the woman (a.k.a Princess) explained to her companion, "She is white," in reference to my light pigment. What a keeper.
Note: You're not deaf when you wear headphones.
Anyway, PIT will soon find herself on the road to becoming just like Princess, I'm sure. It's all about Princess, and the rest of humanity is inferior.
PIT made comments about everything. These comments, in summary, were about as vacuous as I've ever heard.
Here are the highlights:
- "Oh look, mama, this path leads down to the turtles. Can we go look?"
She ventured down the path to what is an ornamental set of four sculptured turtles on a piece of metal. They aren't alive.
- "Did you see the turtles, mama? There are, like, 20 of them. They're so big. Did you see them?"
- "It's called Turtle Marsh."
Written in several places, it's Turtle Bayou. No, no one cares, but the statement was illustrative of my point.
- "Look, there's another one of those things."
It's called a 'bench,' PIT.
On and on, the child droned and exclaimed. Every little thing was worthy of a loud and stupid statement. As she continued to pedal along the path, she made sure to voice her enjoyment in a series of "whee!" statements.
My bet? Only child.
My new running shoes came today. My current pair hasn't given out yet, but it will soon. As goofy as it is to lament the passing of a pair of shoes, I'm going to be a little sad when my last pair of Ozweegos is no longer my running pair.