Fenced In
I went on a walk to the hardware store after lunch. I like to talke little walks in the middle of the work day, especially after I've eaten. I needed to buy a new filter for the air vent over our stove at home. The one that's there now is clogged with about 20 years of grease, and it drips yello-brown goop onto the counter. I tried to clean it out once, but the accumulated filth wouldn't budge.
Then I found out you could simply buy new filters at hardware store. In the strange, sleepy little industrial neighborhood were I work, there's a big-ass hardware store hidden behind a series of alleys, driveways, and fences. I've walked past it about a dozen time without knowing the entrance was in the back, facing away from the road. I've walked past lots of unknown places in the blocks surrounding our factory, warehouses with secret wares and studios with secter artists, workshops and loading docks with no one but workers taking cigarette breaks.
There are a lot of chain link fences in the neighborhood. I thought I could take the alley all the way back to work, but there was a warped fence topped with twisted barbed wire in the way. I thought about climbing over the fence, but I spotted a few folks in the distance loitering at back doors and dickign off from work. For some reason, I didn't want to bee seen jumping the fence.
I've climbed over a lot of fences, usually just to persue the good clean fun of climbing something else (bridges, contruction sites) that was off-limits. It's a good feeling to jump a fence, and it's usualy not that hard. It's easiest to just plunge into it.
But today I was wearing a skirt, and I had this brand-new metal filter with me, plus my handbag. The filter--which was flimsy and cheaply made--had cost $11, and I didn't want to toss it over the fence just so it could get all twisted and ruined before we even installed it at home. Plus I had visions of runs in my tights, tears in my skirt.
Once a few years ago I drove to San Francisco to record an essay for this radio show (www.invisibleinkradio.com) on the NPR affiliate station KALW. The station itself is behind the parking lot of a high school in the boonies of San Francisco. I arrived way early and decided to explore the neighborhood, taking a path that I discovered leading away from the high school parking lot. It took me to a park, and I walked around the park before heading back. But I'd dicked around too long--it was nearing my time to show up for the recording, and I didn't want to take the long way back.
I spotted another path that cut straight down a hill, directly to the high school. But there was a chain-link fence about 8 feet tall in the way. I stood, considering the fence and my options, when a group of younger high school girls came up behind me. They seemed in a hurry.
"Go!" one of them said to another. "Just do it! Jump the fence!"
"No way," she protested. "I can't climb that!"
The girls looked at me. "Can you jump the fence? Have you seen people do it before?" they asked. Like I knew.
"Um," I said, "I'll try, and then we'll know."
It was hard to do with all of the girls watching me. The fence was tall, and I don't like heights. But I wanted them to think I was cool, and I liked that me presence hadn't been fishy or intimidating to them. I jumped the fence, but I was wearing a skirt and I know tha tthe process wasn't very ladylike. The girls followed over the fnece and we paarted ways, me to my taping and they to naughty teenage girl stuff.
Thaty was the last memorable fence-jumping in my life. This afternoon I backtracked to the street again, forgetting about the alley, and instead I stuck to the sidewalks. I need to jump a fence again soon, but today's not the day.
Then I found out you could simply buy new filters at hardware store. In the strange, sleepy little industrial neighborhood were I work, there's a big-ass hardware store hidden behind a series of alleys, driveways, and fences. I've walked past it about a dozen time without knowing the entrance was in the back, facing away from the road. I've walked past lots of unknown places in the blocks surrounding our factory, warehouses with secret wares and studios with secter artists, workshops and loading docks with no one but workers taking cigarette breaks.
There are a lot of chain link fences in the neighborhood. I thought I could take the alley all the way back to work, but there was a warped fence topped with twisted barbed wire in the way. I thought about climbing over the fence, but I spotted a few folks in the distance loitering at back doors and dickign off from work. For some reason, I didn't want to bee seen jumping the fence.
I've climbed over a lot of fences, usually just to persue the good clean fun of climbing something else (bridges, contruction sites) that was off-limits. It's a good feeling to jump a fence, and it's usualy not that hard. It's easiest to just plunge into it.
But today I was wearing a skirt, and I had this brand-new metal filter with me, plus my handbag. The filter--which was flimsy and cheaply made--had cost $11, and I didn't want to toss it over the fence just so it could get all twisted and ruined before we even installed it at home. Plus I had visions of runs in my tights, tears in my skirt.
Once a few years ago I drove to San Francisco to record an essay for this radio show (www.invisibleinkradio.com) on the NPR affiliate station KALW. The station itself is behind the parking lot of a high school in the boonies of San Francisco. I arrived way early and decided to explore the neighborhood, taking a path that I discovered leading away from the high school parking lot. It took me to a park, and I walked around the park before heading back. But I'd dicked around too long--it was nearing my time to show up for the recording, and I didn't want to take the long way back.
I spotted another path that cut straight down a hill, directly to the high school. But there was a chain-link fence about 8 feet tall in the way. I stood, considering the fence and my options, when a group of younger high school girls came up behind me. They seemed in a hurry.
"Go!" one of them said to another. "Just do it! Jump the fence!"
"No way," she protested. "I can't climb that!"
The girls looked at me. "Can you jump the fence? Have you seen people do it before?" they asked. Like I knew.
"Um," I said, "I'll try, and then we'll know."
It was hard to do with all of the girls watching me. The fence was tall, and I don't like heights. But I wanted them to think I was cool, and I liked that me presence hadn't been fishy or intimidating to them. I jumped the fence, but I was wearing a skirt and I know tha tthe process wasn't very ladylike. The girls followed over the fnece and we paarted ways, me to my taping and they to naughty teenage girl stuff.
Thaty was the last memorable fence-jumping in my life. This afternoon I backtracked to the street again, forgetting about the alley, and instead I stuck to the sidewalks. I need to jump a fence again soon, but today's not the day.
posted by Lefty at 12:54 PM
1 Comments:
Nice little story. You bought the filter today??
I used to jump fences all the time. Back in my skateboarding days, jumping fences and walls was a way of life, not to mention survival! Whether I was being chased by gangsters, security guards, guard dogs, or just some irate crazy peson, climbing over a fence FAST was an essential skill. Smile now, CRY later!!!!
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