Captain’s Log: It’s barely 8 am as I approach the intersection and wait to cross the street. A see a burly man from the corner of my eye. I can’t tell by his disheveled look if he just finished his shift or if he’s been living outside the past few days, but it’s clear he doesn’t want to be bothered as he’s wearing his hat low and has his face buried in food as he walks past me. As he draws near, I avoid eye contact as best I can knowing my preclivity to attract crazies. He walks by and still has his face buried in food, holding the thing, protecting the thing, like it’s the last piece of food on earth and I’m going to kill him for it. He passes, and I get a waft of this delicious swirl of meat and cheese from what I imagine to be the most rewarding burrito of all time. It still smells warm, like someone just made it. I instantly regret not looking at it or him, to ask, “uh, hey… where’d you get that?”
10.15.14
