Waiting for the appropriate time of departure on my final day in Chicago, I was sitting in a Starbucks with my black tea, all packed up and ready to head back to O'hare via subway. Some coffee patrons tie their dog up outside while they head in leaving nobody to watch him, but passers by, and me, from the window. One of my best buds, who's birthday was celebrated the following night, texted me about her outrageous consumption, and her hence getting sick all over. I then thought that it must be the dog's birthday too because just at that moment, I was the lucky witness watching the dog hack and gag and finally toss its cookies on the sidewalk. There was a puddle, which later a woman unknowingly stepped through. I smiled.
A couple minutes later, as I was finishing my tea, an out of place and out of work man who was mumbling to himself and organizing papers in the corner near me approached me asking if it was Sunday.
"Yes, Sunday it is," I respond.
"Thanks Mame, you look like a Presley."
"Oh, well, that's a nice little thought." ....and he trails away.
I pack up and get on the train.
1 comment:
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