Scenes from a Rainy Day

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Sometimes I think my life is like a David Lynch movie. Not the Twin Peaks kind of movie…more like Blue Velvet.  I came across two scenes.  Two slices of life if you will.

Scene One

Picture a rainy day, with clouds overhead and puddles in the real estate that snow banks had only recently held. If only the temperature were one or two degrees colder the would be a blanket of snow.  Instead of running water to sewer mains, there would be the crunch of my feet.  I would be able to dust off my jacket, rather than hope it dries when I get to work.

To my left I see the cyclist. I have seen him before, on a variety of bikes, all bearing names that are more expensive than the one I own.  I have never seen him pedaling in winter.  Today, with temperatures a balmy one degree, he is out.  I had once suspected him of running errands, but I have never spotted a pack, a pannier, a package, a bag, or even an misshapen lump under his jacket.  Today, he had covered himself and much of his bike in a poncho.  I want to signal him and tell him that rain fenders would be a good addition, but his happy, almost mischievous smiling catches me off guard and I let him go with rooster spray tails following him.

Scene Two

The rebel to himself enters the bus. He had found the two seats that his lanky body must occupy, regardless of the needs of others.  He has stretched himself out over the top of the seat like a cat arching it’s back.  He is staring out at nothing, hoping that the world notices his discontent.

He would love that I am writing about him now, but he won’t ever find it. The headline won’t be big enough.  If it doesn’t have more followers than his Instagram, he isn’t interested.

He pulls the small flask out of his pocket. It’s meant to look as though it is silver.  The cap unscrews, but is attached to the bottle like a pair of kindergartener’s mittens.  He opens the lid with practiced nonchalance and takes a pull.  I smell neither alcohol nor catch the telltale sound of burning gasp that comes from shooting jack or vodka straight. I watch as the performance continues.

I am sure, under another person’s gaze, these scenes might appear pathetic or even disturbing. Well, I have long since given up thinking that drinking on the bus at 11 am is shocking.  It is far too common an occurrence.  And riding in the rain might seem less than enjoyable, the man’s expression spoke other wise.

These scenes are not particularly attractive and you might question what makes them Today’s Perfect Moment. It’s part because I enjoy randomness.  It is also part because these scenes, much like those in a movie, seem to be a vision that I couldn’t create.  I couldn’t conceive of them and I couldn’t direct them.

 

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About Anthony

I am: equal parts rebel, romantic and shockingly average Joe. a writer trapped inside of an ESL teacher's body. an introverted attention seeker. a teacher who hopes one day to be called "Captain, my Captain." an intellectual who can do some very dumb things. a person whose Japan experience, despite being so long ago, still exerts a strong influence upon him. a lover of books, music, beer, hockey and Pizza.
This entry was posted in Aspirations, Reflections, Perfection, bus, commuting, public transportation, seasons, subway, transportation, weather, winter and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Scenes from a Rainy Day

  1. Heide says:

    I love these moments, Anthony, and that you were present in that instant to observe them. Great post.

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