One day last week, I opened the front door of my house to go out and get the mail, but I hesitated to open the screen door, because there was an argument going on between a couple on the sidewalk. A woman was towing a Radio-Flyer-style wagon loaded with belongings. Behind her, a man was sitting in a wheelchair, towed on a leash by a single Golden Retriever. They were likely homeless. The overall effect was of Mr. and Mrs. Claus as refugees. The woman was very tense. The man was shouting, in effect, that she wasn't very attractive. The appropriate response, of course, would have been to push him into traffic. Nevertheless, a couple of hours later, I saw them sitting quietly and working cooperatively together in the park.
On Friday, I saw a young man wearing a hoodie and walking down the sidewalk. The shell of the hoodie looked exactly like the front of a bag of Flamin' Hot Cheetos. Branded! A walking advertisement! I wonder what the rest of his wardrobe looks like?
I went to eat lunch at a Vietnamese restaurant. I've been wondering how much of a shoestring operation it had become. It had opened with fanfare earlier this year, but then a couple of months ago the entire crew was replaced with a skeleton crew and the menu was dramatically shortened. Now you can't even get a printed menu. I suppose it's too expensive to produce. They just point at a QR code on the table. The only item on the new menu that I knew I liked was the "Rice Bowl," so that's what I ordered. They apologized and asked if vermicelli would do. They had run out of rice.
On Saturday, I approached a pizza takeout restaurant but I was momentarily blocked from entering. A homeless person was pushing a shopping cart in a circle in front of the door. The person started taking off their pants. They removed the right pants leg, but their other pants leg got hung up on their left sock and shoe. It would require additional attention to clear the left pants leg. Exasperated, the person just pushed the shopping cart down the sidewalk with their pants all bundled up on their left foot. Despite the fact the person was partially-naked i couldn't establish whether they were male or female.
Which reminds me of when my family first traveled to California and we kids, my sisters and I, first saw the Pacific Ocean, in 1970, at San Diego's Mission Beach. It was overcast and chilly but some people were entering the water. We watched a topless person enter the surf, but my sisters and I couldn't establish their sex. Some body shapes are just ambiguous. We wondered if it was a California thing. In the 90s one would say it was an "It's Pat!" moment.
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