The View from a Drawbridge

The random musings of a bridgetender with entirely too much time on her hands.

I was remembering a conversation I once had with a coworker when I worked for the Florida Department of Transportation. We were doing highway inspections out in the middle of nowhere. I mean, there was nothing or no one around for miles except fields of potatoes, and for some reason he chose that moment to …

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Tell me: when a conversation starts that way, is there any chance of it going well? And can a person who is that tactless and cruel really think that he or she has all the answers? It beggars the imagination. The way I see it, we are all like icebergs. Only the very tip of …

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An interesting text conversation with a dear friend, shared with her permission. Friend: Did something on my bucket list that I hope won’t shock you too much.           Me: Been trying to call. WHAT DID YOU DO? Expect the worst and it won’t be so bad.            Last time you did a bucket list thing, …

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A little over a week ago I had surgery on my wrist. I was scared silly. Mostly because I’d be all alone during my recovery, but also because it’s downright unnatural to voluntarily subject oneself to getting sliced open. I mean, seriously, who in their right mind says, “Here. Cut me, please.” You have to …

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I have a friend that I enjoy talking to, but I’ve long since discovered that she is not someone to seek out if I want to vent or feel the need for compassion or commiseration. She just doesn’t want to hear it. She’s a classic See-No-Evil type of person. Oh, she’ll be quite happy to …

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In this modern computer age I have quite a few friends that I haven’t met face to face. In many cases we are a half a world away from each other, and the likelihood of us ever breaking bread is pretty slim. Even so, they’re as dear to me as any partner in crime from …

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I’ll be the first one to admit that I’m not very quick on the uptake. My snappy comebacks are usually delayed by a couple of hours. Oh, they’re pithy. They’re trite. They’re just a little late. If you throw me a set of car keys, my first reaction is to duck, not catch, so let’s …

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When I was around 14 I rode the bus to school every day with a bunch of kids from migrant worker families. I was the only one on the bus who didn’t speak Spanish. It drove me crazy and they knew it. They’d say something, look over at me, and laugh. I hated being left …

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