The walk from my store to my apartment takes approximately four action-packed minutes. Today, I passed a surly group of vagrants arguing about something or other. I have perfected my “I’m neither afraid of nor interested in you” city walk for just this sort of occasion, so I began it, and as I passed:
Scuzzy Dude A: You’re a f***ing a-hole, B.
Scuzzy Dude B: Oh yeah, well f*** you, you ba*****.
At this point, Dude B notices me, turns, tips his hat, bows a little:
B: Pardon my language, m’am.
The woman who runs everywhere, well, less runs than scuttles, like a crab or maybe a squirrel, ran up behind me the other day. She yells, a talking-to-my-buddy-across-the-football-stadium yell: “I was on my way to Boise… Boise, Idaho. But I got off at Portland. But they told me to go to Boise. But I said hell no. I’d rather go to Girlsy. Girlsy, Idaho.”
I love this city. 🙂
