After many years of living in our hood, That’s Not Chinese and I have decided to acclimate.
It is not uncommon, while sitting on the porch drinking wine, for us to observe our neighbors riding their bikes and going on walks. Thus, we decided to take up walking – it’s much easier to walk with a drink than it is to ride a bike (learned the latter from personal experience while riding a tandem with Opreggano and wearing Kanye shutter glasses).
Although I forgot to take my newly acquired pedometer, I know we walked quite a bit, because I dropped my jacket somewhere along the way and we had to retrace our footsteps to retrieve it. Luckily, we got to the jacket before the bikers rode over it, the other walkers thought they stumbled upon a treasure, and That’s Not Chinese had a panic attack over the whole incident.
“I can’t believe you were not anxious over that,” That’s Not Chinese told me. “It’s just a jacket. If somebody had taken it I would figure they needed it more than I did,” I replied. “Not me. I would totally get in their face,” she informed me and added, “By the way, I thought of a name for us, ‘City Walking Girls.'” “CWG? Like a gang?” I asked. “The ‘g’ can stand for girls or gang,” she said.
Seems like a good idea, every hood has a gang and initiation varies from rolling in, jumping in, sexing in, committing crimes and, just what we did, walking in. CWG in da house!