The locals

(alternate title: "Interpellation")

Headed out for a morning jog the other day with Macy at about 9:30 am or so. It was sprint day, so I was running pretty hard (listening to "Everyday" by Carly Comando--great running song). Macy was giving about half-effort, which she's being doing more and more as it climbs to 90+ degrees by mid-morning. Slacker. Let's just say that I had a good couple of steps on Macy as we cruised down the block. As I'm running, I begin to notice from my periphery a large object creeping slowly up on me--it's a truck. For a couple of steps I keep my pace and pretend that the truck isn't following me. It's happened before that cars slow down to look at rental houses, etc., and I just happen to be in their line of vision. But it's clear after a few more steps that this truck is stalking me. I nervously glance over into the cab of the truck and see the driver, a somewhat wild-looking, if older man, start to roll down the passenger side window. By this time, I realize that my full attention needs to be devoted to this situation, so I quickly pull out my headphone earbud (left side only), stop running, and shoot the driver a look that says both "What's up?" and "I'm a little worried that you're a crazy person trying to kidnap me." Ignoring my look and its dual meanings, the driver yells these words at me across the cab of the pickup: "I'm betting on the dog!" He smiles, then speeds up and drives off.