I just got back from the store. This is my green mode and I am choosing not to give more money to the oil companies. The weather is beautiful and usually I take my bike to get cigarettes and groceries. I haven’t had it down since last fall so the tires need pumping up and Mike has the compressor, so I decided to walk. Just a few miles, it’s no big deal.
The store for the cigarettes and lottery tickets (my personal vice store…It has cigarettes cheaper than the grocery) is a two blocks south and two blocks west. The grocery is 10 blocks north and two blocks west. I decide on the cigarettes first, throw them in my backpack and onward to the grocery, just in case I overbought. I got my prescription and I think everything that was compact and weighed over 5 pounds. $60 later I pack the backpack full and have two extra shopping bags…and am quite smug that I already stopped for cigarettes. As I push the cart out of the store, I decide the pack is quite heavy and shall leave it in the shopping cart until the last cart corral. I also think it a wise idea to open the Arizona ice tea and throw back a few gulps before I go. By now I realize the winter coat and gloves were too much for 65-degree weather and need some fluid.
I pause as long as I can and reload the backpack to my back. It really is heavy. In an effort to appear normal I smile as I trudge ahead, really wanting a cigarette, but feeling that I would look a little foolish puffing and walking. The backpack is starting to cut into my shoulders.
Two blocks are down and only ten more to go. Funny, last year the walk wasn’t quite as long as this. My wrist is starting to hurt from the additional bags hanging from it.
Four blocks down and I’m seriously considering sitting down and drinking the ice tea, instead of sipping it while I walk. I get a stitch in my side and realize all this movement has promoted a gas attack. I walk with my stride tamed down in an effort to keep my legs closed, at least until I’m far enough away from the neighbor working in her yard.
Six blocks finished and the thought of a bicycle seemed wonderful. Actually, a car was looking better and my determination not to use gasoline was waning. I was seriously considering stopping at homes under the ruse of missioning my religion so I could sit down, but they might ask questions and they usually make you wait on the porch, standing. Besides, if they did let me sit in the house, they might want me to give them literature and all I had was celery and cauliflower in the backpack.
Eight blocks down and I now question myself, “Just when did I become Amish?” There is no answer but I notice that my right arm is now numb.
Two blocks to go….I can’t quit now. I see all the neighbors and passing out is totally out of the question. Must smile….Tried to wave but the arm won’t lift…Grin and nod.
Front yard…cut across lawn. Gas isn’t such a crisis and what can one person do anyhow? Barely get the key in the door, push the cat aside and sit the backpack down. Dang. I unpack the groceries and go downstairs. I have done my bit for my body and the environment. Time to light up and finish the ice tea and I answer my emails.
First email to a friend:
Just got home. I walked to the grocery and the wonderful breeze and smell of spring in the air made it all worthwhile. I thought that I would pass this on to encourage others to save gasoline. It really is quite invigorating.
Sit back and wait, laughing to myself. Someone else will try it if I promote it enough. There is evil inside me.