I presume, that as one gets older, one does not mind discussing, writing, or speaking about topics, that earlier seemed embarrassing.
Keeping the above in mind, I am emboldened to tell you about something that occurred a few days ago.
However, let me set the scene …….
As a young boy, I was extremely skinny and tipped the scales in the 45-kilogram range for many years. Seeing me now, you may think this is a joke, but I am keying in this story with one hand on my heart – it’s the truth and nothing but the truth!
According to my mother, my hollow cheeked, lean , scrawny look was because I was a fussy eater & refused point blank to eat tomatoes, spinach, carrots, and ladyfingers. She also coaxed me to have Feradol, Complan and Egg flip – all in the hope that she would fatten me up.! Much to her dismay, it didn’t happen.
My mum often referred to my legs as ‘spindles’ and that was not far from the truth. I detested the term but couldn’t do much about it either, because it was a realistic description. I presumed I would be skinny for life, or so it seemed back then.
Now as a young teen, I somehow avoided wearing shorts to go out. I always preferred track pants or jeans – for comfort and style obviously. Earlier it was because of the ‘spindles’ and then as I grew older, the habit grew.
As the years went by, my spindles increased in size- keeping pace with my tummy, I guess. Wearing shorts, however, was something I never got used to.
About five years ago, and prior to one holiday to Europe, I checked the temperature of the city we were scheduled to visit, and seeing that it would be warm, I bought two pairs of shorts on a whim and decided to wear them abroad. I took them along, but only wore one pair, once. They were then consigned to the back of some shelf in the cupboard.
Covid saw them being worn frequently at home and I began liking them. We recently shifted house and home and the two pairs of shorts continued to come in handy while gardening and even for quick trips by car to the supermarket. In fact, I bought a few more pairs. One evening I decided to wear a pair & go for a walk.
Now, I usually do two or three rounds of a large lake near our place, and there are several other fitness enthusiasts walking as well. It was early evening by the time I got out of the house.
I had barely done half a round when I saw ‘her’ and a friend approaching from the opposite side. She was lean, had long legs, and long brown hair. Her lady friend was short and dumpy. We passed each other quickly, and while her friend was busy on her phone, I could have sworn that she gave me a sideways glance. I had made sure that I had given them sufficient room by stepping aside, as the path was narrow.
I didn’t think much of it. It was an amazingly cool evening, I was listening to some ‘Slow Whiskey Blues’, feeling fit and pretty good about myself, as it had been a productive day.
Now one round of the lake takes about twenty minutes and lo and behold I soon saw them approaching again.
As we passed each other, a few things happened in quick succession. She looked at my legs, growled, lurched forward, and made a dash as if to bite me. Taken completely by surprise I jumped backwards, almost banged into the railing, regained my composure almost instantly, and stood staring. The attack – if it was that- was unprovoked!
The young lady who had her on the leash was highly embarrassed and told me that her dear pet had never ever done anything like this before. She apologized profusely and said that probably her dog wanted to play with me! By then ‘Donna’, her Labrador retriever was wagging her tail playfully, trying to jump on me, looked like she was smiling, and I began feeling rather foolish.
Two or three others who passed by, seemed highly amused by the entire incident, which had played out before their eyes.
Had I overreacted? Was Donna just a young playful dog who wanted to have some fun ?
Was it my legs? The shorts? My nervous look when she passed by?
I will never know.
Nevertheless, I have vowed not to wear shorts while going for a walk. I can almost feel teeth on bare skin, and it makes me cringe. There are several dogs being walked – albeit on leashes, but one never knows when another ‘Donna, Bella, Coco or Charlie takes a fancy to my legs and decides to act crazy. Playful my foot.
Track pants will be safer.
