I was reading at a Starbucaks two week ago reading a report for work and taking some notes when A man comes enters the café. He was either in his early 30’s or was a leathery-faced late 20-something. He was dressed all “grunge-punk” (quotes are there b/c I prolly don’t know what I am talking about), and had the mannerisms and vocabulary of a cracked-out whore. The first word and every other word following was “F” this and “F” that and so then “F” and don’t forget “F”, oh and did I mention “F”. Lets not forget that he was loud, it got to the point where the barista asked him to watch his language, and he apologized. Long story short this man who my first impression of was a cracked out hard-arsed numb to the world delinquent, turned out to be a relatively nice guy, at least from my indifferent third person point of view. From what I could tell he was just aching to just talk to someone about his demons and struggles, to be around people who accept him and understand him. Basically he was looking lose himself in a love that the street cannot provide.
My heart went out to him. It makes me wonder what’s his story.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
2 comments:
it's funny what we see when we open our ears. huh?? the comic on it was great! it's seeing something everyone else see's as ugly and finding the beauty in it. sad beauty... but beauty. hope that made sense to you. it did to me but most of the time i'm the only one that understands me. hahaha.
No I am glad you said that. That is what I was going for.
Post a Comment