Saturdays...they are by far my most favorite day of the week. They remind me of P-Days on my mission because they are not days to be wasted. Every moment is planned and every food craving is fulfilled. I wonder what kind of missionary I would have been had I planned the other six days like my P-Days? Oh well...no need to dwell on the past.
Anyway, this past Saturday was another great one. It started off with a delightful sleep until ten in the morning and then a drive to the store to get breakfast (with no bra on - I don't know why I love just putting on a sweatshirt and walking around in public. It totally reminds me of Freshman year Calculus. I don't think Noble and me ever wore anything but a "sweatshirt.") Anyway, after consuming a bowl of cereal and some waffles we started the mad dash to buy a bike for Danny. (With the prices of gas becoming completely ridiculous we have decided to invest in bikes.) For the past month we have been searching craigslist.com for a deal and finally at about eleven we found one. The bike, like usual, was a little worst off than the description and picture led you to believe, but after a little negotiating we still ended up paying the asking price. (That was supposed to be sarcastic - we aren't exactly great "negotiators.")
So, now that we had a bike for Danny we got suited up in our matching Duke kits and headed out for a ride. At about mile 25, while we were riding along the beach, a man yelled from his car, "Nice matching outfits you homos!" Homo? I just got called a homo? I just looked at the guy as I was riding by and tried to give him my most, "seriously?" look. As I continued to ride I got more angry about the situation. 1. I was really upset that he was making fun of our cool outfits and 2. that he called me a "homo." However, as I thought about it longer I was most upset at my reaction. This guy deserved the finger and all I gave him was a LOOK. I was disappointed and embarrassed with my actions.
Dan, on the other hand, is someone to be admired. This man, who I love, can be talking on his cell phone, eating a sandwich and down-shifting on his bike AND still manage to get his finger up in a beautiful salute to obnoxious drivers. Unfortunately, in this case he didn't hear the "homo" part, but I know, if he had, that guy would have been properly dealt with - not just looked at. Geeeeez, I'm still embarrassed.
So now, from this experience I'm setting myself a goal - next time I'm honked at, yelled at or almost hit I'm raising that finger with not only confidence, but with conviction.