- in the bus taking me to work this morning there was a young cave man, homeless-looking, barefoot, toenails as black and as long as a polar night, bushy wiry Tarzan-looking hair, Methuselahic beard, probably sweet home of all parasites sucking human misery dry and reeking of dumpster no. 5. I placed myself strategically next to an open window, ever wondering where do such people go?! Do they have any idea of their own whereabouts? I always remember in such circumstances what my mom told me once about a dog she saw frequently while going to work. It got up the tram always at the same station, curled under a seat and got off at always the same destination. And I am thinking, what does a better sewer make? How is the subway station at the University better than the one at the train station? Well, while I was pondering of the theory and principles of begging and being homeless, the troglodyte changed his location, and with him the empty 3-feet wide circle around him. The lady whose chair served as a prop for the smelly dervish was innocently unaware of the stinkbomb behind her. And then, suddenly the wind probably changed. Her head started to tilt (probably her nose too) and she cast a detached look over her shoulder then turned her eyes back front. After a second or two she jerked her head back at him, with a horrified disdainful look (I wonder if she was scared of his appearance or only appaled by the stench) Anyway, she looked ready to scold harshly the social faux pas of not bathing in the morning and emanating fumes of brimstone and hell. After a short while of piercing looks which encountered a totally impervious cave boy, she dignifiedly thrust her head back and... did not get up. Her offended nose was probably overcome by her tired behind.
- finally off the bus, everybody happy and allowing their lungs to run at full capacity again. I slalom slowly through the masses and head to the office. Next to a church a guy is making the sign of the cross.. three times, like most of the people (which reminds me once that once I was standing in the bus next to a gypsy woman who was probably also saying some prayer, and she kept making the sign of the cross for about 5 minutes, until she was probably 1 mile away from the church. I was keenly expecting the next one, only one bus stop away, to see if the story was to repeat, but the reverence moment of the day was probably over, so she sourly made one single cross while staring blankly out on the window). Anyway, coming back to this guy, I noticed for most people it's an automatism, see a church, cross 3 times... as you feel like it: half crosses, shyly insinuating, wide ones, from shoulder to shoulder and down to the middle dan tien, in the solar plexus. This guy I saw made the first one quite ok, with slight veneration, the second one was a bit distracted and the third one gloriously ended in scratching his crotch. Amen!
- still smiling after this one, i headed to the centre of the University Square and one old white-haired Santa-looking man carrying a basket full of bagels tempted me "Come, young lady, I spent all night baking them, come get bagels for your morning coffee!". And still smiling, I answered the dumbest thing I could ever think of: "No, thank you, I don't drink coffee any more!" . I honest to god hope he did not hear me :(