I’m in Atlanta.
As I left town early Saturday morning to make the trip south, it was really quiet in my neighborhood. Probably a combination of the early hour and the holiday weekend, there were only a few people milling about. My last glimpse of Dupont Circle was a man walking up the street, flipping through the Yellow Pages. I really wonder about some other people’s worlds, you know?
I sat in hellacious traffic from Arlington to oh, Richmond. I now know why it is appropriately called “NoVa.” No va in Spanish? “Doesn’t go.” Yeah. That was me for three hours yesterday morning. I attempted to make up for lost time, doing about 90 alongside some boys in a Mercedes from Connecticut. Eventually through a traffic altercation, where they slowed down to 50, I pulled up next to them and asked them if they were okay. We ended up having a conversation at about 70 m.p.h. on the highway just north of Charlotte. Seems they lived on the same street as me in Connecticut. Since the street is about three blocks long, I’d say that yes, it is a small world.
I stopped in Charlotte for dinner. I tied the dogs up outside a restaurant and went in to order food and use the restroom. When I came back outside, someone had given Thora and Sammy their own cups of cold water. Um…wow. I forgot what it was like to be in the south again.
Then I got in the car and hauled ass to my friends house. I got there just before 10 p.m., and I was reminded instantly of why she is one of my best friends. She began to explain her theory of how she could be a waitress who telecommutes. Sigh. That chick is just too funny.
Now, the meat of this post is really about Thora. And my ex. Two and a half years ago my ex left town and left Thora with someone who was supposed to watch her. But his version of “watching her” meant opening the doggie door and letting her do whatever she wanted. After a week when he didn’t return home, she took off. He and I had a fight because he never went to look for her, I put an ad in the paper, someone called me and I drove all night with Penny to get her. That was the fateful trip where the cop pulled us over and asked if he knew why we were pulled over. Penny says no, and he says, “Because you almost hit me.” Well, shit. We were exhausted!
Okay, so it’s been 2 and a half years, and he seems to have cleaned up his act. I decided to tell him that I was coming to town. He’s asked me if he can have Thora for the time I’m here. I’m so scared to just let him have her because he’ll try to take her back. But I don’t want to deny him the chance to get to see her and play with her. So, I’m totally at a loss. The person he was a few years ago is hopefully long gone, replaced by someone more responsible and less angry. But it’s only a guess. So now I’m stuck in the position of trusting someone who swears he can’t care for the dog and won’t separate her from Sammy again. We’re supposed to meet tomorrow and all I can hope is that this doesn’t backfire. I don’t think I will be lucky enough to find her a second time if she gets lost. Damn me and my conscience. I could have come to town and not said a word. Shit.