Coordination
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It was early in the summer but late in the afternoon; the time for me to leave the office for home had arrived. I walked out of the building and across the street to catch my bus. Whatever it is that makes people stupid when the weather shifts toward warm days was fully in effect. Fortunately, the weirdos that one sees on the street tend to be of the sort that provide entertainment rather than discomfort.
Why one woman in particular caught my attention I do not know. She was thoroughly undistinctive. Not especially pretty. Not especially ugly. Not especially tall. Not especially short. Not especially thin. Not especially heavy. Not especially well-dressed. Not especially badly-dressed. She'd blend into any average crowd.
There she was on a downtown street corner, walking quite slowly, perhaps unsure if she wanted to cross the street. She took a cautious step forward just as she brought the cigarette in her right hand to her lips. Hitting her cheek instead of her mouth, the cigarette was knocked out of her hand and hit the ground just as her foot was coming down—landing right on top of the cigarette.
While I managed not to laugh right at the moment, the scene played over and over again in my mind on the way home and I laughed heartily every time. (An interesting side-effect was that no one attempted to sit next to me.)
spring baseball in Detroit
Do Not Disturb
