Sunday, November 15, 2015

A Moment in Life, or on TV, or in Film… One of Those


I'm walking the pups tonight, and we turn off Pine onto Boylston.  We're walking by RPlace, and the pups stop to catalog all the smells around a tree when, through a big smile, a guy standing outside the bar calls out to me, "Hey, can I have one of those?"

I almost respond "You can have me!" arms flung wide, heart beating faster, music swelling in the background, suddenly appealingly lit from above - because he was just that adorable. But I stopped myself.  Because, well, that would just be sad.  Not to mention an express elevator to awkward moment.  

So I looked up like I was thinking, and then replied "Uh, yeah, NO."

"Oh, c'mon, you have so many" he laughed.  We interacted for a bit, shared a little moment like strangers sometimes do on the street, and then the pups pulled me away, back down the street.  I smiled and nodded goodbye to Mr. Adorable, as the pups had so many more smells to catalog, or places that need to be marked, or stuff that might deserve attempted digestion - a bounce in their tiny little feet, tails wagging with life, ears flopping with love.

Across the street, a "gangsta" wannabe stereotype walked in the same direction as us.  His cap was on backwards, the gold chains around his neck swung in rhythm with his stride, his coat was too big, his jeans hung around his thighs, his underwear was checkered boxer shorts, his attitude was loud.  Head neck bobbing; holding his phone away from his mouth so it can capture the full breadth of his meaning, yo.  

"We already know where you live!" says the stereotype loudly at his phone and into the surroundings, holding the crotch of his jeans with his other hand as he walked with testosterone threat.

I stop for a minute, watching the stereotype.  Just then, a big blue van pulls up right next to me.  There are a number of antennas on the roof, the windows are shaded ... the driver points one of those coned listening things from action flicks at the stereotype, and puts his other hand onto his ear.

Uh ... did we stroll into a "Law and Order" episode somehow?  Were we just part of the opening scene, disconnected from the story, which is introduced suddenly as the slight opening turns into a ghastly crime scene?  I imagine Briscoe and Greene driving up, glancing at the stereotype's body as Brisoe says, "He shoulda used his rollover minutes" or something funnier... the pups and I now recounting the horror that interrupted our lives to a partially attentive policeman in the background.

A couple approaches us going the opposite direction.  He is using one of those rolling knee rests for one of his legs, presumably because his foot was hurt at least as much as the wheels squeaked.  As they approached, she said "Triscuits" with some fervor.  He replied "Cheez-its" with less confidence, which caused her to shake her head furiously and say "No, Cheez-whiz."  Their conversation paused as they passed by us, each repeating "Cheez-whiz" to each other.

“Never Have // Night Walk” from blurred lights
Then it dawned on me.  This isn't "Law and Order".  This is a Fellini film.

I'm not staying for that.

"C'mon little babies," I said, pulling the pups out of frame.  The stereotype was still loudly threatening the phone, oblivious to the blue van of barely adequate stealth.

The pups’ tails wagged as we exited stage right, floppy ears bouncing in stride.  I smiled as I watched them... the night seemingly descending behind us.




originally written in 2011, also published on Medium

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