Ooo Look at that one! And that one!

Day 39

I window shop for people. Being too poor to actually enjoy the torturous temptation of window shopping I peruse people on the street. After all, when I’ve nothing better to do, I walk. The only other ones who know what I’m up to are the old men on the benches. They see me staring from the corner of my eye and they stare right back. I secretly like our stare-downs. They don’t make any sort of smirk like the rest of Spain, but it’s more an act of mutual acknowledgement of each other’s turf. I don’t linger long in the rose garden, that’s for the 3 musketeers. I don’t sit in the park by the fountain, that’s the old white hair guys spot. I certainly don’t plop down on the bench at the beginning of the main drag. That’s for the old buds in loafers. Most of the Spanish are too busy to notice us people watchers, tourists are hopefully oblivious, and the homeless are wary of us, not wanting us to distract their potential audience. But when I spot a gem I let my gaze lock on and lock in. I notice what they’re wearing, the way they walk, wonder where they’re coming from, why they thought a rat tail was sexy, how cold they must be in just a mini skirt, how bad their feet must hurt in the 6 inch heels and how much fun they’re about to have with the group of friends around them.

Heading back home from the park I wait for the little green walk man to let me know its ‘safe’ to cross. After hearing that 75% of deaths at cross walks occur when the pedestrian is in the right, I’m quite a bit more wary about those fickle cars. Lucky I do because on my right a mini car screeches to a stop and a boy easily only 15 years old with braces bounces with excitement in his seat while his mom is paralyzed with the universal face of fear and the ubiquitous white knuckles bracing the dashboard. She says something quick to him and I hear the emergency break snap on. It’s hilarious to think that the Spanish teach their children to drive cars. I can promise that I’ll never jaywalk. Ever. But it was comically comforting to see the terror on the mother’s face. It reminded me so much of home :)

peace & love. woosie, who's really not loving the whole winter at the beach idea. it's cold!