“Why is everyone in the Outpost so aggressive?” lamented eleS.
“Everyone? What’s the story this time?”
“Someone parked in the middle of the road, popped into a restaurant to pick up his lunch. It was taking a while. I honked, he came back and showed me the finger. Why?”
“Because you are a woman, you look foreign and unaccosted and, above all, because you look Russian. Nobody has ever dared show me the finger during my time here. Jod, on the other hand, has shown a lot of Outpost men the finger herself. So there.”
“So what, if I am a woman, a foreigner and I look Russian? By the way, do I really look Russian?”
“Well, you are a woman driver. That would be enough. You are foreign, hence nobody’s daughter or wife or sister. And by your Russian looks, well, you know.”
“I am so out of here. So out of here”, she said.
Aren’t we all? But then, I had my fifth anniversary here last week. I have been trying to make a tiny difference lately — you know the whole business of complaining about the dark versus trying to light a candle. This has at least made a difference for me. I’ve met people. Moreover, my services are still prized in my line of work. Naturally, dreams are dreams and are not to be given up (as if they could!) but until they grow true, life has to be lived. See, my hair has been graying and my dinosaur lines (ask Jod why they are thus called) have become ever more visible on my face.