After twenty years of living in Sacramento, the heat finally got me!
I have long avoided our notorious heat. I start my chores early while its cool, or waiting until sundown, stripping down to bare nessasities . Neighbors have seen me in my fashion forward “Fruit of the Looms” for years now. So far no one has asked me to board up my windows, but I think I’m a couple of streach marks from an annoymous phone call.
The Plan
Was to get an early start (8 am)and take light rail to “Historic Folsom” to have breakfast then, stop at the 19th Safeway for food at return. Well, 8am became 1pm.
Before leaving my apartment, I drank nearly a quart of water. I walked a few blocks on K street and boarded the a light rail and transferred on 13th Street for the Folsom bound train. At the station I started to feel dizzy and was nauseous, as the train approched I wasn’t sure I had the strenght to get on. But the power of Historic Folsom compelled me and once on I took the first available seat.
The ice cold air conditioning was welcoming, the dizzyness and the nausea were competing for my attention. One has happy if I sat straight up and other wanted my head between my legs. Somewhere between the 30th Street Station and the 59th Street Station, I passed out. I woke up in Rancho Cordova, where there was a man with his bicycle sitting in front of me tapping out a tune with his comb on the window. Our eyes met, sorry man, he said! Are you alright, some shit was dropping from your mouth! I looked down, oh yes in dee dee there was a small but gross stain on my shirt, I thought to myself, it could be worse and drifted off to sleep.
I was awakened by the same man, having a full on conversation with no one! This was a sign, I need to stay awake, the dizzyness was gone, but the nausea was ever present. Occasionally, our eyes would meet, sorry man! I turned around and there were five people in the car. For a moment, I thought I might be able to take a short walk in Folsom. A small jolt on the train, brought me back to reality.
The man with the musical comb and non-existant conversation, got off at the Iron Point Station, “hope you feel better”, he said, as he was leaving the train. As the train was approching Folsom, a voice overhead said, everyone must get off the train. In my head, I said, “Ya’ll gon have to carry my 300 plus pound ass off this train”.
No one kicked me off the train. Well, I thought to myself, I didn’t go to Folson-I should be well enough to stop at Safeway, its only a two block walk from the station. Looking at my phone, it was 103 outside. Not a good Idea, homebound.
Perhaps it was the heat, but I suddenly had these great plans. Jumping off the train at 8th and K and buy some food at one of the resturants for dinner later. Of course this makes no sense, as the last thing my big belly wanted was food. ( A big man saying he doesn’t want food-this is a kodak moment) anyway! I had a Subway gift card, so in addition to the food, I could use the card for sandwiches for lunch later in the week. Or maybe even going to the Taco Bell Cantina on K, I’ve always wanted to go there. Meanwhile my stomach is churning and its not butta.
As the train crossed J street, I realized I was in no condition to walk a few blocks home. At the Amtrack station, I went to the Lyft app it wanted $10.88 to take me less than a mile.
Waiting at the Station were two Orange Cabs. A lady dressed for Maine in the fall, with a headscarf ,was having a very animated dicussion with the cab drivers negotiating a ride somewhere near Chico, all she has is seventy dollars and she was told that all it would cost. As I walked towards the cab, Mount Vesuvius or my stomach erupted on the sidewalk. I knew this would end any possiblity of me using their vechicles. Who know what could happen in a shaky car?But a cab driver in dread locks waved me on. I’m sorry, I’ve been walking in the heat, I told him. That’s crazy, he said and in less than three minutes there we were in front of my apartment. The cab was four dollars cheaper than Lyft and arriving home, I left him a ten. HOME!
CityFella
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