When I go running in the morning, I pass two women at the corner of Dumbarton and Crow. They are dressed in snazzy spandex-ey things and talk to each other with wild enthusiasm, like they’ve already swilled ten cups of coffee at 6.30 am. I am rumpled in sweats and gloves. One waves at me and nods. The other looks straight through me.
When I am on time for work, I see the same woman on the subway platform. Her look: trendy librarian. She is the only person I’ve ever seen who looks good in a bowl-cut.
If I am a lucky duck and get out of work at 5 pm sharp, I cross paths with a woman on my walk home from the subway. She is roughly my age (twenty-something) and wears a black hat with cat ears on it. She walks a small Jack Russell Terrier on a leash. When she passes, we nod to each other in a way that says, “I don’t know why we’re alike, stranger. But we are.”
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Who do you see daily as you go about your business?
::Random Tangent::
The other day, I was commiserating with a guy about the low salaries of most first out-of-college jobs. I mentioned that when I had my first out-of-college job, I only had one pair of pants that I ironed and re-wore daily. He looked at me curiously before he burst out laughing. “Be careful with the word pants here,” he chuckled. To people in the UK, “pants” means underware. Ha!
