*toot toot! all aboard my hormone train
Sometimes I wonder if we are actually safer in low-socio economic areas than in wealthier burbs.
Sometimes I wonder if we are ever truly safe.
The illusion of safety a shimmery facade we build in our minds to cope with the constant dangers we face daily.
I mean... In the end, we are all gunna die right?
Whether it's from a freak accident where a tree in a school yard drops a limb on your head or from years of bad eating habits and a slow diabetic death.
Whether we are accidentally gassed one night while we sleep from a faulty appliance or we live to be 86.
( I've seen 1000 ways to die)
Only one thing is certain. Death is inevitable.
Not to seem morbid or dark, but it IS the truth.
And so many of us, daily, avoid the truths of life.
First of all, I'm pretty sure our local park had a drug dealer- swapping packages for packages in the far corner with several different, white middle class people the other afternoon.
Funny thing is, they all looked like normal everyday working class guys.
Not the tattooed, bikie, drug pushing stereotype you see on the news.
I lived in a low-socio economic suburb last year. I went to the park. But I never saw a drug swap and I never felt unsafe.
What is it with well off people and their drugs?
But while I watched one guy on a rather nice push bike pull up to the dealer in the afternoon sun, swap and ride off again - I still didn't feel unsafe.
Maybe the sun was having too much of an affect on me.
Maybe I'm hormonal.
Or maybe I'm just too desensitised to bother even batting a judgemental eyelid, so instead I shrug and just observe the fishbowl across the park.
It's another life. One I'm not apart of. One I never wish to be a part of. But it's just too darn riveting for me to stop looking.
There is actually ONE thing at our beautiful shady local park I refuse to witness.
What is with twenty something, inner suburb dwelling guys that says it's ok to go down to the local park, without a shirt on, and work out on the play equipment.
There's a lovely half court - even a large grassy area, where they could choose to work out. Preferably WITH a shirt on.
But not on the playground equipment.
And for reference we don't have that work out type play ground equipment at our park that you see sometimes mimicking gym equipment.
No, think - slide, flying fox, monkey bars, generic wiggly kangaroo type park.
Think, monkey bars so low I can reach them with two feet on the ground.
So when a twenty something guy comes and try's to unsuccessfully, (shirtlessly) do chin ups on those low bars because he's too tall for them while 5 or 6 kids run around him playing.
He honestly just looks like he doesn't understand social etiquette.
Or the social etiquette in my head.
Worse is that there's been more than one shirtless offender.
And trust me. They're not all something to look at.
And even if you have a six pack.
( and I'm talking about you olive skinned twenty something with the body that glistened like Edward Cullen in the midday sun )
Although I appreciate your perfectly defined torso - go get a gym membership. Or run the block.
But please don't take your shirt off and feign exercising in front of a bunch of 4 year olds and their Mums at the park.
Because it's awkward and you just look like a narcissist.
And nobody likes a narcissist.....unless they themselves are one.
( this is all making sense now... Ugh, I'm so pregnant )
Interestingly, in my low-socio economic suburb, I never saw a half naked man exercising at the local park.
Perhaps the lower class is a little classier when it comes to knowing park etiquette than the middle class.
Or perhaps they're all down at the bottle'o getting a different type of 6 pack.