Where Are My Gloves?

It’s been cold around here lately. And by cold, I mean waking up to 30 and 40 degree temperatures. While this is a heatwave in someplace like Minnesota, it’s damn cold for us thin-blooded Southern Californians.

Since this cold snap began, I noticed my hands were getting dry and cracked. This condition was the result of constant exposure to the cool temperatures while waiting at the train station. In order to combat the problem I went on a quest to find a pair of gloves.

Not one freakin’ store had them. You see, out here they are more or less a seasonal item that only come around at Christmas. That’s about the only time it gets a little chilly. But the current temperature is definitely lower than December’s coldest day.

Anyhow, I came home and went digging in my golf bag and found my Mizuno batting gloves. Cool! Now I could keep my hands warm and protect them from the elements.

But when I got on the train today, a strange thing happened. I felt as if people were staring at me. Seriously, I did. Maybe it was the combination of black gloves, my oversized jacket, blue-lens sunglasses and an expressionless face that did it.

In my haste I double-checked my zipper to see if maybe, just maybe, I had forgotten to hoist the flag. But I had, so there was no problem there.

With the looks I was getting, they probably thought I was a mafia hitman on his way to a whacking.

Either way, it was strange yet humorous. We’ll see what the reactions are tomorrow.