Do You Ski?

I stood upon the hill watching the kids zoom down the slope. A father of some of the other sledders tried to start a conversation with me. I didn’t feel like talking to him, but I thought I’d give it a go, to be a human being for a change. Who knows, maybe he’d come up with something interesting.

“My brother told me they got about ten feet of snow out in California.”

Wow, ten feet.

“He lives in the mountains near a ski resort.”

Wow, ski resort. Ten feet is good, I suppose, for a ski resort. I don’t know.

“Do you ski?”

I don’t ski. Standing on a hill watching my kids sled is about as close as I get. At that point I realized he was wearing a fancy ski jacket and was baiting me into listening to him rake on about his skiing aplomb. I didn’t have the vacancy to hear more. Luckily, my lack of skiing repartee dislodged his enthusiasm for the subject.

“So, do you work for an electrical company?”

I happened to be wearing my All Pro Electric Company, Inc jacket that was given to me by a friend. I don’t know anything about electricity. I can turn a light on by using a switch, if that counts.

“Well, what company DO you work for?”

A soulless manifestation of profit and greed. Thanks for asking. I didn’t bother to ask him who he worked for. I guessed he was baiting me again so he could tell me all about his wonderful career. He looked like a regional procurement instrumentation abstractor analyst to me. Since I already know all about that, it was futile to further the conversation.

I don’t have much to say. Other people do. I usually end up being a brick wall others can hurl their verbal shit at. Step right up and throw your shit at me. Maybe it will stick.


But not this day.