they should make shopping for cables easier i think. there should be a service where you pick the ends, you pick the length of cable, you pick the like. color and texture of the cable (shitty plastic, nicely woven, bare metal, whatever) and then they make it and ship it to you for a reasonable fee
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In one misfortunate year I ended up getting into several car accidents. It cemented my general fear and anxiety in cars, because in each case I was either in the car but not driving or driving safely when suddenly something hit me.
One was my ex driving in an unfamiliar city and cutting someone off on accident that resulted in a sideswipe. Another was getting rear ended when I came to a required stop.
The last was when I had a green arrow at an intersection. I turned and was smashed into by someone running a red light, T-boning my little car.
Dazed and in shock I tottered out of the car to behold a crusty older man eating a donut step out of the offending vehicle. A fire truck arrived to block us off from traffic since my car could no longer move under its own power.
“Were you on your way home from work?” The firemen asked me.
I shook my head, struggling to focus on them, “No,” I said vaguely, “I was on my way home from volunteering at the animal shelter.”
In an instant they were closing ranks around me, glaring at the ambivalent donut man who would dare to hit a tiny frail angel who volunteered at the animal shelter. They asked if I needed to get anything out of my car. I did.
“It’s… uh. It’s a little weird though.”
They gestured for me to proceed. I grabbed a bag with snacks and books and filled it with things I couldn’t just leave in my car. Last out I pulled my cutlass.
“Is that a sword?!”
It was. They were instantly like giant puppy dogs, excited and delighted but trying to mind their manners. The bravest said, “Can we…?” I held out the sword. They whooped with delight, unsheathing and marveling at it.
“Why do you have that in your car?”
“I honestly don’t remember, it’s just a fun thing to have at a party now.”
“Is your wrist okay?”
My shock was wearing off and I realized I was cradling my wrist to my chest. “Oh.” I rummaged into my bag and pulled out a wrist brace.
“Wh….why do you already have that?” I was starting to confuse the firemen. I volunteered with cats, had a sword offhand, and kept a wrist brace in my car bag.
“Sometimes I try to hold books in a way that sprains my wrist? So I have this in my car just in case.”
They stared at me. Maybe, like my wife, they assumed it was for masturbation induced injuries. They handed my sword back as the tow truck arrived and thanked me for letting them play with it. They gave donut man one last glare and drove their big truck away.
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after having an entire hour long conversation with my coworkers about what "degendering" is, and the importance of using trans people's pronouns when you know them- rather than always defaulting to "they/them" no matter what- and still getting "they/them"ed by people I trusted not to fucking do that to me, I have decided that the name and pronouns circle of introductions for new additions to the group will now include the very clearly stated boundary that they do not use "they/them" pronouns for me.
your move, cowards!
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