Beakdip's Banter

Banter? I just met her...

4.23.2006

CHARACTERS-

me:
wearing red cap, dark pants, dark jacket, dark sunglasses, headphones

rotund Hispanic teen:
wearing oversized, blue, knock-off, down parka, oversized denim shorts, white high-top K Swiss

person of the street:
wearing green Patagonia (dirty), light blue t-shirt (dirty), blue Cal-Neva Casino corduroy cap (dirty), dark trousers (dirty), 1 boot and 1 Nike high-top shoes.

SCENARIO-

Market St and Valencia, sunny, Sunday afternoon. I am walking north, RHT walks south reaching into his jacket seeming to situate or locate an item needed for immediate use. POTS drunkenly meanders north between me and RHT.

A blue item falls out of RHT pseudo parka yet he still searches for the object from within, each step walks him further away from item dropped onto sidewalk. In passing, I tap RHT on arm and in a voice with ipod blaring through my headphones I speak:

"Hey man, you dropped something," not knowing if my pitch was a yell or a whisper because of blaring ipod.

RHT looks at me as if he doesn't understand, so I point at blue object on sidewalk, which matches his outfit splendidly I must say. He turns and looks.

As RHT looks to my pointing area and sees the garment object on the sidewalk, POTS places his 5/6th percent smoked cigarette butt from his right hand into a slot in his mouth where several teeth used to be, bends over, picks up blue object, admires it smilingly.

I become adjacent to POTS, tap his shoulder and say,

"I think that is his," spoken in same voice mentioned above nary breaking stride. As I turn away I see RHT approach POTS with same quixotic look he gave me, reaching for his blue object, securley in POTS hands.'

I walk fast

sez jefe on 4:05 PM link me

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