Turkeys!

Well, once again the exercise-crazed among us are forcing themselves on those of us who would just as soon stay in bed. What I am referring to is the annual Turkey Trot. A 5K (or is it 10K?) jaunt around the area in my little town. They call it a "fun run" which, I can assure you, is no fun for anyone. Especially those of us who have to work the darned thing!

First of all, they hold it on Thanksgiving Day itself. Who could possibly give thanks after having to get up at 4 in the morning to be at the police station at 5, and then put into position by 6 so that when the thing starts at 8, we have already ticked off some citizens by having blocked their route? They also have the nerve to tell us it'll be over by 10. Ha! What they forget is the hardy souls (maybe foolhardy is a better word) who simply can't run that far so they end up walking three quarters of the way. Believe me, they do not finish by 10 o'clock. Some might even finish the next day!

But we, who are supposed to be writing parking tickets per our job description, have to stand out there in the cold and watch these dopes prance by, smiling and waving (I generally wave back but with only one finger). Last year it was so windy that the police barricades we set up (and WHY do they need us if there are barricades, you ask? We ask it too.) blew across the road. It's not easy to retrieve and reset those things, even with gloves on.

And another thing, I generally go to some friends house in the early afternoon for the Thanksgiving feast. How is one supposed to stay awake after getting up so early and then loading up on tryptophan? It's downright rude to the hosts to nod off in the middle of one of their stories.

But, I have no choice in the matter. I can't take a vacation day, personal time, nor call in sick, even though the thought of working this thing makes me nauseous.

TURKEYS!

Ten-seven.