08 January 2014
On the road, with C.
It's about time I got going. Bessie, who had just run aground, is still a strong girl and the road's in front of me. The pedicab confessional was interesting, and wobbly. Days later, I would meet another displaced pedicab guy, this one from Ontario, wearing shorts in the cold weather. "I like your mitties," he said. I told him I thought he'd said, "Middies." Thus started yet another accidental conversation, the kind that usually reveal something interesting. He said that the cold didn't bother him, that it was all just a state of mind [plus a healthy metabolism, I would guess]. He said that same kind of mind was the one that has kept him alive, a kind of alertness like the hunter, that he kind of intimated that was less and less common. As the new year sprang, and after a few choice beverages, I tossed some firecrackers behind me and walked away like Denzel, I just seemed to fit the occasion and I always felt like doing that. Of course, there were some people watching the whole time from the balcony, and being caught in the act just didn't feel quite as cool, so I muttered out a casual 'HNY'.