While I was walking, this kid asked if he could take me to lunch. I didn't realize he was speaking to me. I was on my way to do some school work at Starbucks, but a free meal to celebrate for myself was welcomed enough. So I agreed, and we walked together, looking for a place to snag a bite. He asked what I wanted and I said sushi or ceviche seemed perfect; Lincoln Road is strewn with places that have both. He pulled out an envelope, looked at the twenty inside, looked at me, and suggested coffee.
This was awkward. I do eat more than a side salad. Whatever.
I conceed that starbucks sounded good, that's where I was headed anyway but this whole thing was becoming unnecessary and rather painful. What the fuck had I been thinking?...accepting a free meal from some seemingly poorer (and cheaper) than me.
I ordered an grande iced black tea, unsweetened. He asked for the same, proudly (!) informing the barista he'd be paying for mine as well. While we were standing there, he was talking about how he hangs out with friends on Lincoln Road. We turned around and, in fact, one of his friends was sitting right behind us. In a wheelchair. With colored pencil portraits laid out on the table in front of him. I was introduced. The kid asked his friend if he would draw me and the friend said he can only draw from pictures, so I was asked if I had any pictures of myself.
I do! I do! A whole 9x12 bookful, sticking out of the top of my purse. But I said I had no pictures and I said I did not want is friend to draw me.
We sat down and struggled through a conversation. I struggled to hold onto a conversation I was trying to let go of. He struggled, well, because he struggled. I said I wanted to go to Milan and after a while (five minutes later?) he said something like, "Milan is in asia? Right?"
No! I'm not talking about the fucking Disney movie with the asian cartoon, dumb fuck. I'm talking about the city. I didn't actually say that but it ran through my mind while I delicately corrected him.
He apologized for being a bad conversationalist. I said everyone has moments of feeling like they said or did the wrong thing. It happens. It got quiet and I said I needed to start working. He asked me if he could sit there (Starbucks has a booth with tables in front. He was nextto me in the booth, one table over.) I said sure, if he wanted to continue sitting there, he could do that. I put on my headphones and tried to start working but it didn't work so after a couple minutes I took them off, turned to him, and asked him to leave because I felt awkward and couldn't start writing a paper with him just watching me.
He went outside and joined his all too familiar group of weird street cat friends. I got up and asked a girl to watch my computer and stuff while I went to the restroom. When I came back, Ajna called, and I told her about the kid and how weird and painful and akward it all was. About how I thought he was a good person but definitely missing something. I don't know what I said.
A little bit later, an old man sitting on the other side of me turned to me and asked me where I was from and if I'd watch his computer while he went outside to smoke. He then told me that he thought I had a good feeling about _________(I forgot the kids name by now, obviously.) He nodded his head reassuringly, gave me a wink, and said that he's said enough. He got up and walked out.
What? When does this happen? It felt like a weird conspiracy.The girl on the other side of old man shrugged her shoulders and gave me a sympathetic look.
I could't work. The kid came back in and gave me a starbucks card for some reason. I tried to give it back to him but eventually, kept it, used it, and shipped it off in my portfolio to Steve Ross. (He doesn't know the story.)
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It's been maybe a month since that happened. I've seen the kid a couple times and pretended I didn't see him and he hasn't come up to me since.
Today when I walked into the same starbucks the old man saw me and gave me a wry wink and smile again. It took me a second to realize this was that old man. He looks strikingly like the portrait of Walt Whitman I had just looked up for English.
I'm cold, sick of this stupid story, I dragged it on too long for myself to still be amused by it.
It started raining and I biked here. I just called my roommate Carlos; he's coming to pick me up. My hero!
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