Keep the change

Hi Mom,

A guy with a fancy umbrella stopped me in the street this morning on my walk to work. “Funny, you don’t look like a tourist.” I was trying to get the parking lot shot at the exact right angle to get in all the crazy verticals. “I’m not. It’s for a blog for my mom.” He still looked confused. “I take pictures of things I think are interesting around the city and send them to her.”

He walked with me for five blocks. We talked about GM and cars and parking lots, then briefly about jobs, hedge funds (he works at one) and layoffs. He was shocked to find I walk all the way to work. I turned the corner. He waved.

I was walking down Broadway, where city employees are now called upon daily to set up a barrage of lawn chairs. A man with a grey hat and a black messenger bag jogged past me in street clothes, pausing as I did when a series of quarters and pennies hit the ground. “Are those mine?” he asked. “I think so, yeah,” I said, reviewing any open pockets or pouches that could have shed approximately 46 cents. He picked it up and jogged off. I kept walking.

I took a shortcut down the bike lane, imagining the street lined with pink flamingo lawn ornaments. About ten minutes later, he reappeared. “I think they’re yours,” he said breathlessly. I didn’t drop them.” He dropped the 46 cents into my palm and disappeared down the street.

Love,
Karen