You would think I would dread Mondays. It's the start of the work week and I have no job. I also have few if any freelance projects these days, so Mondays mean the start of a probably futile week of looking for a job somewhere else or trying to scare up some work here.
And yet, I look forward to Mondays.
Because the weekends here are so depressing.
On the weekends, Bako turns into a ghost town.
This time of year, it's always bad because of the heat and humidity. People escape to the coast for some fun in the sun without the risk of heat stroke or radiation burns. Others flee to San Fran or LA for a little shopping and dining and nightlife and culture. You know... life. But the vast majority of locals hunker down, sequestered behind cheap mini-blinds and plastic plantation shutters in air conditioned isolation. It's like a zombie movie where all the zombies are inside on their Playstations.
I can walk the dogs morning, noon or night and in 30 minutes never see a single soul. We went to Home Depot one Saturday around 10am and parked right up front. Inside, there were more employees than shoppers. Obviously, there are still some people around. But on the whole, weekends in Bakersfield are a pretty lonely experience.
And it can't be blamed totally on the heat. A few months back, when my little dog escaped, it was a beautiful, coolish Spring day. Saturday, 9am. As I frantically ran blocks and blocks in every direction looking for her, there wasn't a human in sight. I felt like I was in an episode of "The Twilight Zone", the one where there's only one human left on Earth after a nuclear cataclysm.
Of course, if there was a nuclear cataclysm in Bakersfield, I'm not sure you'd notice.
So yes, I look forward to Mondays. It means the return of some life to the neighborhood. There's always a chance the mail will come and on Tuesdays and Wednesdays the neighborhood gardeners show up. As long as I can hear the leaf blowers I know I'm not alone.
