A woman pushed a stroller to the edge of the curb and when she saw a small opening in the rushing traffic, she ran for it. Her and her infant made it across alive and it excited me for all the possibilities that remained.
A pigeon posed for me on a ledge and I bought a bottle of ranch dressing from a farmer’s stand by a busy subway entrance. I had just been fantasizing about ranch dressing and the universe brought it to me. On the train a woman’s newspaper sat in the seat next to her. “Is that yours?” She snatched it and I sat down next to her and she dug through her purse and wheezed, “Ohhhhhhgoddddd.”
M&Ms rolled around the floor and bounced off my shoes and a baby cried. A man played a panflute. I thought “What to Wear to an Orgy” would be a good title for my book.
A drunken man slurred his way through the crowded train pleading his case. “Someone stole my wallet and cellphone. I just want to get home to Connecticut.” He stumbled into someone and did not say sorry. “Can anyone spare a dollar or a five or ten? If someone gave me a ten I’d go straight home and you’d never have to see me again.” Nobody gave him anything. “The feeling is mutual!” A cigarette was pinned behind his ear. “The reason they call it spare change is because you can spare it. I know times are tough but …” He pushed his way past a couple holding hands. “Thanks for being so understanding. I hope you lose your wallet and cellphone.” He got off the train.
When I got home I Internet-searched “What to Wear to an Orgy” and it has already been taken, some article written during the key-partying ’70s. I dipped a dab of ranch dressing on my finger and it was delicious, the best I have ever had and nothing like what stores sell. I drank it like a drink, straight from the bottle, thick and creamy and herby.
”Aaahhhhhh.”
The sun set behind a hill, trees full and green, clouds catching the deepening colors of a day leaving us for somewhere else. My window filled with weekend motorcycle engines and death sirens and car horns and drunken sidewalks but in the morning it quieted with churchgoers and hangovers and dog walkers and birds chirping Morse code before it gave way to everything starting over.
~O~
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