by strangedayonplanetearth

telephone line edited.jpg

journal: 7.18.14

Street harasser: Inaudible.

I take three steps and freeze on the fourth.

Turn.  “Excuse me?”

He offers a half wave?  He is eating out of bag with crumbs falling out of his mouth.  Yes, he forgot he did not just download me for $29.99 a month: I can talk back.  He looks embarrassed.  He says defensively; “I said, how are you doing?”

“I am fine,” I say crisply and clearly.  And walk.  Some consolation in his misery but it does not outweigh mine.