*true story*
yesterday i went for a walk along the beach to clear my mind... I sat upon this 1/2 crumbled down cement wall and dangled my barefeet over the sand below and smelt salt and sand and seagulls. I simply just appreciated the space around me. The liminal space of the ocean, that is. Nothing can ever push the boundaries of the ocean back. No condos or nightclubs or shoppingmalls or strange smelling victorians will ever be built past this crumbling wall with exposed rebar.
and then some guy would come behind me to stand and stare at the glistening water, and i'd do that half turn to express annoyance, and then they'd leave and find some other stretch of the wall to look out from and I'd again experience the joy that is space.
well after an hour or so, I decided to walk along the boardwalk to my cross street and then head home... As I reached the cross street, a shirtless man in his fifties approached me. Salt and Pepper ponytail and neatly trimmed beard. Bifocals, even. "traade you a beer for a smoke?" said he. "I'm sorry, I don't have any cigarettes." I said quickly, and apologetically trying to get away from this man and reclaim my space.
"Roll me one then!" said he. "I... I don't know how, I'm sorry again." I lied to try to politely remove myself and get to the little beeping crosswalk button. "I'm gonna teach you, now hold these!" He says as he thrusts a little packet of rolling papers and a small pouch of tobacco into my chest.
"Now first, you gotta make sure the paper with the glue on it is FACE UP. faceup. okay?!" He slurs at me. "now gimme a pinchofdat stuff. What the fuck happened to your hair?" He says as his glazed eyes glance at my trendy messed up gayboy hair. "nothing." I reply and smile as he proceeds to sloppily roll together a ciggarette.
"now i want you to make one, now its okay if i don't like it, understand?" So I roll him another cigarette and then find him a light, and at that point, he cracks open another beer, spraying the crumbling wall and trashcan. "Enjoy the beach," I turn and say to him. "MAN, I live here! I'm a reg'lar old BEACH BUM!" I do the polite laugh even though I realize how sad his situation is. "Hey!" He yells back at me as I push the chirping sidewalk cross button. "There're surffers out there. Wish them luck." Good luck i wish to them, pounding my fist into the air like a RAWK sign.
i cross the street and head home.
and then some guy would come behind me to stand and stare at the glistening water, and i'd do that half turn to express annoyance, and then they'd leave and find some other stretch of the wall to look out from and I'd again experience the joy that is space.
well after an hour or so, I decided to walk along the boardwalk to my cross street and then head home... As I reached the cross street, a shirtless man in his fifties approached me. Salt and Pepper ponytail and neatly trimmed beard. Bifocals, even. "traade you a beer for a smoke?" said he. "I'm sorry, I don't have any cigarettes." I said quickly, and apologetically trying to get away from this man and reclaim my space.
"Roll me one then!" said he. "I... I don't know how, I'm sorry again." I lied to try to politely remove myself and get to the little beeping crosswalk button. "I'm gonna teach you, now hold these!" He says as he thrusts a little packet of rolling papers and a small pouch of tobacco into my chest.
"Now first, you gotta make sure the paper with the glue on it is FACE UP. faceup. okay?!" He slurs at me. "now gimme a pinchofdat stuff. What the fuck happened to your hair?" He says as his glazed eyes glance at my trendy messed up gayboy hair. "nothing." I reply and smile as he proceeds to sloppily roll together a ciggarette.
"now i want you to make one, now its okay if i don't like it, understand?" So I roll him another cigarette and then find him a light, and at that point, he cracks open another beer, spraying the crumbling wall and trashcan. "Enjoy the beach," I turn and say to him. "MAN, I live here! I'm a reg'lar old BEACH BUM!" I do the polite laugh even though I realize how sad his situation is. "Hey!" He yells back at me as I push the chirping sidewalk cross button. "There're surffers out there. Wish them luck." Good luck i wish to them, pounding my fist into the air like a RAWK sign.
i cross the street and head home.