It's 12/23/25 and there’s a bug on my paper. Are you muse or distraction? I’m trying to write this post about the three character studies while waiting for breakfast here at Taco Heaven . . . how to get started with this bug in the way.
The first character study was an old lady pushing a baby carriage. She looked homeless somehow even though she had a baby carriage and boots. She was pushing it thru the Central Market parking lot and I stopped to let her pass, but she stopped to let me pass so I passed and parked and on my way to Central Market passed by her again and saw that it was not a baby but a puppy in the baby carriage. It’s eager face burst forth from the canopy and pressed forward to catch a scent of me. It eyed me hopefully with its tongue hanging out. On a science show I saw once, they explained how dogs put out their tongues to dissipate heat, but also I believe it assists with their sense of smell. At any rate it was on full alert and ready to discover a new friend. The old lady, on the other hand, was weather beaten and wore a dismal expression (to borrow a Dicksonion phrase). Her head was bowed and covered, she walked with a slow shuffling gait, which was how I was able to approach her after parking my car. I can’t imagine where she was going because they couldn’t possibly allow dogs in the store - licking people and stuff. I didn't catch her eye but I notice the time worn face, fissured and bronzed that she looked she looked out from behind.
The second character study I saw on my bike the next day. He also was an old person. I’ve seen him around Central Market lounging in the cafe so I think he’s a retired person not homeless. He also looks dismal but today he’s wearing a read and white Santa’s cap as he crosses the street. He has a scraggly white beard. He makes a great Santa actually, having just the right body type, although I’ve never seen him smile much less ho ho ho. He’s headed for Central Market to sip coffee and read the Express-News, no doubt.
The third character study was further down the road on the same bike ride, Avenue B, to be exact. It parallels Broadway but without the traffic and there, just north of Kiddie Park, is a guy on a unicycle - one wheel single speed, but he’s rolling no problem. One wheel is all he needs and I give him the cycler’s salute which is one finger barely raised off the handlebars and he salutes back with a tip of the head not having any handlebars and we roll on in opposite directions - me to Taco Heaven and him to where I know not of but ‘We are all making our pilgrimages aren’t we?’ I thought to myself as the memory of him slowly receded and once again I found myself on the path.
Oh yes, one more. This pen that I am writing with, a black BIC Altantis, has the name ‘Jazelle’ written on white paper with black ink and scotch taped to the barrel. She is a barmaid at the Eagle and the Rose, a faux pub here in my neighborhood. She is the kind of bar girl that makes you think, ‘Maybe she wants to sleep with me’; the shoulder touches, the clinging blouse and super friendly as opposed to the beer bitch who usually stations herself behind the taps.
There are a few strands of wool or maybe rayon clinging to the nub of the pen from where, no doubt, it was stuck in her skirt. I really should give it back to her but she probably won’t be there when I return or maybe she will have changed her mind remembering the measly tip I left her the night I stole her pen and no longer be friendly and flirtatious. Maybe I’ll just keep it as a gift from the Goddess, who I do believe in by the way. I see her all the time.
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