So, what's been up? I dunno-- maybe it's "everything." But today it's not taking much to set me off.
Let's explore some examples in which Liz Erk was somehow crossed or indirectly crossed:
1.- Jogging up Dartmouth Street to HW at 7:30 a.m., I was wearing a tank top and shorts. I suppose my body's looking better, but I don't think it was necessary for the following exchange to take place as I trotted past a burly group of teamsters:
Teamster#1, as Liz moves past, "Mmm-hmmm. Now there goes my girlfriend..."
Teamster #2, "I could use some of that..."
Liz stops in her tracks. Slowly turns around. "Excuse me?," I asked. "Your 'girlfriend?' Which late night 'not-in-this-or-your-next-lifetime' fantasy are you referring to? Because I'd have to be feeling really bad about myself to ever consider someone like you a 'boyfriend.'"
Stunned silence. Teamsters 2,3,4, and 5 look at number 1.
Liz then nods at Teamster #2, "And what exactly could you 'use some of' from me? A punch in the mouth? A kick in the balls?"
"Shiiit..." mutters one of the men quietly.
After no reply, Liz says, "That's what I thought." With a turn, she continues on to HW.
2.- On the train ride back to Porter's, Liz watched the guy seated across from me use the bench as a kitchen counter for all of his breakfast and whatever other filth he had with him. When the train arrived at Harvard Square, he stood up for his stop, leaving his mess behind. Liz couldn't believe it. There were wrappers, a cup of coffee that tipped and spilled as the train stopped, and a Metro newspaper that was picked apart and scattered all over.
Liz looks at the man and makes eye contact, then says rather loudly, "What? Do you think your Mother works here? Ever hear of cleaning up after yourself? God, you're a slob..."
Everyone turned to look. The guy turned about 3 shades of red.
"Cunt," he muttered.
"Yes," I said. "I have one of those, thanks. But you're still a slob..."
3.- One of Liz's favorite challenges is to jog up the long escalator stairs at the Porter's T stop. Wearing her heart rate monitor, she likes to check and see if she can regulate how hard her body will be pushed to reach the top of the vertical climb.
As she neared the top, she gagged on a cloud of cigarette smoke. You're not supposed to smoke in the station. Liz gets next to the chimney impersonator and says, "Hey, Lung Cancer, you can't wait to get outside and do that? How pathetic and gross..."
And here I sit. I think I need a nap.