I knew you were watching me, just waiting to give me problems as I set up my tripod on what I believe is a public trail to take some time-lapses of the stunning thunderheads above the San Gabriels from one of the best unobstructed vistas in town. The second I pushed "record," you drove up, asking accusingly, "What are you taking pictures for?" Duh. When I repeated your question in the first person with a question mark of my own, you suggested I could be casing your oil equipment for the purposes of stealing it, damaging it or whatever. When I asked how on Earth I could possibly damage or steal the few gigantic pipes and shit I saw anchored firmly in the ground or behind barbed wire, you said I might come back later and do it. WTF? Maybe you realized how silly your scenario sounded when I assured you with a smile (which only masked how irked I was) that my only interest there was taking time-lapses of clouds because you finally drove away and left me alone to wonder what it must be like to dwell in your head. Thanks for the suggestions, though.
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