People I'm Next To

I’m next to this guy. He is sitting on a bench next to a crutch. He has unruly grey hair shoved under a faded baseball cap,  several days of a beard, and his clothing is obviously well worn. He is asking folks that pass by if they can help out with some change. In turn, folks that pass by are deliberately not looking at him. I don't have any cash, but this ignoring-the-guy shit tugs on certain heartstrings. I do have the vaguest sketch of a conscience.  So, when it’s my turn to turn him down, I look his way and say, “Sorry man, good luck though.” This angers the man, “Really dude,” he replies, “well I’ll tell you a secret. Karma is a bitch.” He then asks the next person for some change.  I pass by, feeling weird. He wasn’t yelling at the people who ignored him, should I have just done that? I am unsure. I contemplate my route back from lunch and how best to cowardly avoid the street he is posted upon, and suddenly something bothers me. His karma curse doe...

I am next to this line of men. They are single filing it out of a restaurant and walking by my table. They seem to be a group of office folks on lunch, and as such are dressed in a fairly heterogeneous sort of business casual fashion. By this I mean it’s a polo parade. Additionally, their hair (where applicable) is all a very similar shade. As they pass, I sip my coffee and realize I am witnessing at a strange phenomenon. The first man is trail blazingly bald, leading the pack with a shiny, aerodynamic dome that cuts a wind tunnel for the dudes behind him.  There may be a little stubble by the ears, and in the back, but it is clear his follicles closed shop a while ago.  The next man is bald in a skewed mullet sort of way; business in the back, slip and slide upfront. His sides and back are close-cropped but have definite and sustained coverage. Up top and in the front, there is nothing left.  He is pulling it off.  He has come to terms with his personal...

I’m next to this man. His look suggests mildness. He has sandy hair just short enough to stick straight out, giving his head a great blurry halo. His facial features are similarly rounded with all gentle curves. He is the type of guy that would be very easy to imagine as a stuffed animal version of himself.   When I first see him, he is standing in front of an automatic paper towel dispenser in a coffee shop. He has a tablet in one hand, and a coffee mug in the other. He looks at a nearby counter, which is a bit wet, then back at his tablet. After a few seconds of consternation, he realizes he can spare his electronics and just set down the coffee.  He chuckles at his indecision, then looks over at me with an expression that says ‘oh silly me’. I reply with a nod that says, ‘I-recognize-your-former-dilemma-and-I-applaud-your-decision-but-can-we-maybe-get-this-towel-train-moving-my-own-mug-has-some-coffee-spilling-down-its-side-and-I’d like-to-handle-it’.  He ...