Earning your stripes, turf wars and a rice gesture

Dear Rachel,

I got high the other night and remembered that time someone repainted the stripes on Florida, only they weren’t “stripes” in any technical sense, because they looked more like a seismograph reading. It was pretty darn funny, and also, as someone who can’t draw a straight line to save my life, I sympathized. What do you think ever happened to that line-painter?

– Shaky Ground

Dear Ziggy Zaggy,

My uncle used to threaten me that if I didn’t shape up in school, I’d grow up to be a striper. That’s all I’d be good for, he said, until I turned about 23 and had to become a hocker. I guess that’s someone who works in a pawn shop? My uncle was not a very nice guy, but I don’t know why he threatened me with being a striper, because literally nothing I have ever done will be remembered as fondly as the Florida Striper.

– Staying in my lane, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

People always say that dogs are “marking their territory.” Well, it’s not very effective, is it? Another dog comes along and marks the same spot as their territory, then someone else does it again. Can you imagine if that’s how it went with your neighbors’ fences? Mine! Nope, never mind, it’s yours. Mine again! Dogs must be doing something different, or else they have a very fluid idea of ownership. What are they really doing out there?

– Stream of Consciousness

Dear Gushing,

I once had someone recommend, in earnest, that I pee in a jar and then use the contents of that jar to incrementally create a border around my home to ward off neighbors with ill intent. So I tried it. It worked like a charm: the landlord kicked me out of the apartment for pouring pee along the common hallway, and I never had to deal with those neighbors again. Good enough for dogs, good enough for me. 

– Take it sitting down, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

I recently helped out a neighbor with her low tire pressure warning light. Covered it right up with black tape. Kidding! I put air in her tires. She tried to pay me $20 and no way, I couldn’t sleep with myself for that. So she insisted on bringing me food. OK fine, if it brings her joy, I’ll accept that. She asked a bunch of questions about my dietary restrictions (I have none), and I was starting to get excited for a homecooked meal. Until she brought me… a bag of rice. Uncooked rice. Should I just be grateful? Am I wrong to be disappointed? 

– Underwhelmed

Dear Rice Rice Baby,

Of course you should just be grateful. I’ve never heard of anyone getting food poisoning from a bag of dry rice. I HAVE heard of plenty of people getting food poisoning from casseroles that came from people’s personal kitchens. I mean, have you SEEN people’s personal kitchens? The state of folks’ food prep areas makes me surprised most public-facing workers, like road stripers, are as competent as they are. 

– Buen provecho, Rachel