The beauty of this. There's three guys (men?) with a stroller in tow, and two precious little boys along for the ride, right in front of the coffee shop i frequent alone on Friday afternoons. Imagine. To my left that are three men as well. Two seem older, rough around the edges kind of men. They are talking to this young student (i imagine), most likely in his early twenties. Before they settled down on a park cold bench, the first man was there along with his bike and belongings. I've seen him before. He usually sits right outside of the coffee shop. He usually sits alone. He usually uses the internet outside. The youngest man brings a manila envelope with him. Takes a couple of things out and shows him. I'm too far to see. Yet it's inescapable. It's probably computer parts they are sharing. Or super secret powers. Or friendship gifts of some kind. I want to sit here and bask in the beauty of this encounter. See. Because if people would see what I see they would be baffled. They would question the simplicity of it all. I've met people who have been baffled by it all. I want to live here where these things are normal. or is it that I no longer partake in that? As i once did. Where I talked to strangers. and I formed friendships seamlessly. without judgement.
See. The two men are light skinned. and the third man is a stocky black man. He can skate like no one's business. Tall and sturdy. He grabs the oldest baby by his tiny hand and and helps him climb his skateboard. The brother or the uncle, or the father films the skateboarding tricks (attempts) of the skinniest boy.
The men in the bench. A white man, a black man, and the young Mexican man. They smoke a bit, they laugh (i know they laugh because their glistening white teeth shine from far away), and they chat, they look over each other's shoulder towards the laptop and the smartphone. They marvel at whatever it is that has captivated their complete attention, oblivious to my gaze, or not. The Mexican man looks like a middle class boy, guy, man. The other seem to come from less money, most definitely.
----
and i leave before they all disperse.
See. The two men are light skinned. and the third man is a stocky black man. He can skate like no one's business. Tall and sturdy. He grabs the oldest baby by his tiny hand and and helps him climb his skateboard. The brother or the uncle, or the father films the skateboarding tricks (attempts) of the skinniest boy.
The men in the bench. A white man, a black man, and the young Mexican man. They smoke a bit, they laugh (i know they laugh because their glistening white teeth shine from far away), and they chat, they look over each other's shoulder towards the laptop and the smartphone. They marvel at whatever it is that has captivated their complete attention, oblivious to my gaze, or not. The Mexican man looks like a middle class boy, guy, man. The other seem to come from less money, most definitely.
----
and i leave before they all disperse.
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