Rasta and the Amazon
I don't know if the sunny weather makes people more social around here or I'm just unaware of how often I'm connected to my iPod, but I seem to have been part of an increasing number of random coversations in the last few days. Case in point:
Midday, Friday-I'm walking up Broadway. This somewhat rasta-looking guy sweeping the sidewalk in front of a shop greets me. As I reply "fine, thanks-how are you?" –he is already asking me another question. His accent is so thick, I ask him to repeat it.
"You are taller than me, aren't you?"
He walks towards me as I'm passing him like he's sizing me up. If it was night, I would be sort of frightened.
"Well, I do have heels on," I say. I'm sort of confused...so what?
He interrupts me again with another question I don't understand. "Pardon me?" I say.
"How tall are you? How tall are you?!?"
"Five-seven..." I've been continuing down the street this whole time. I hear him yell after me,
"Five-SEVEN!?!? I thought you were six-one. At LEAST six-one!!"
I don't know why this exchange makes me laugh, but it does. Sometimes it is refreshing to not always be plugged in.
Later that afternoon, I was working out at the gym. Ubiquitous iPod blasting in my ears, I was in a zone as I went through my little circuit on the weight machines. I finished a set on triceps and grabbed a spray bottle and towel from the machine next to mine so I could clean my machine and move on. The thing is, I grabbed the spray handle, and as I lifted the bottle out of its holder, I accidentally spritzed–all over the guy sitting at that machine.
I think my voice was amplified-not only from the iPod but also the shock and mortification of spraying a complete stranger-and I started to laugh as I profusely apologized. He gave me a terse half-smile while he stared somewhere past my right thigh-wouldn't even look at me.
Ah well, it was an accident and I did sincerely apologize, even though I was laughing out of embarrassment when I did. What else can I do? Time to work the quads-on the OTHER side of the gym!
Later, a man recited a poem to me and asked for a dollar. I gave him two. It was a long poem about kindness towards others. Sometimes that just seems harder and harder to do.
Midday, Friday-I'm walking up Broadway. This somewhat rasta-looking guy sweeping the sidewalk in front of a shop greets me. As I reply "fine, thanks-how are you?" –he is already asking me another question. His accent is so thick, I ask him to repeat it.
"You are taller than me, aren't you?"
He walks towards me as I'm passing him like he's sizing me up. If it was night, I would be sort of frightened.
"Well, I do have heels on," I say. I'm sort of confused...so what?
He interrupts me again with another question I don't understand. "Pardon me?" I say.
"How tall are you? How tall are you?!?"
"Five-seven..." I've been continuing down the street this whole time. I hear him yell after me,
"Five-SEVEN!?!? I thought you were six-one. At LEAST six-one!!"
I don't know why this exchange makes me laugh, but it does. Sometimes it is refreshing to not always be plugged in.
Later that afternoon, I was working out at the gym. Ubiquitous iPod blasting in my ears, I was in a zone as I went through my little circuit on the weight machines. I finished a set on triceps and grabbed a spray bottle and towel from the machine next to mine so I could clean my machine and move on. The thing is, I grabbed the spray handle, and as I lifted the bottle out of its holder, I accidentally spritzed–all over the guy sitting at that machine.
I think my voice was amplified-not only from the iPod but also the shock and mortification of spraying a complete stranger-and I started to laugh as I profusely apologized. He gave me a terse half-smile while he stared somewhere past my right thigh-wouldn't even look at me.
Ah well, it was an accident and I did sincerely apologize, even though I was laughing out of embarrassment when I did. What else can I do? Time to work the quads-on the OTHER side of the gym!
Later, a man recited a poem to me and asked for a dollar. I gave him two. It was a long poem about kindness towards others. Sometimes that just seems harder and harder to do.
posted by kerrymac @ 8:41 PM
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