the drop.

Last night, after my birthday dinner of a dozen oysters + hushpuppies + mac/n/cheese + one pulled pork taco, Jacob had to run into CVS to pick up a prescription. We both had our bikes, and he had brought me flowers, so I stood outside and waited, holding both of our bikes and the flowers. I stood in front of the automatic doors and listened to them open and close over and over, whether people were walking by, or I was twitching, or no one was making a move.

It took longer than he thought it would. It was dark outside. Right as he ran in, a crowd was dispersing. It was a crowd that was begging cigarettes off of strangers, pulling luggage with all of their possessions, drinking or drunk. A woman walked, stumbled, slowly past me, so close. I heard her mumble, and then clear as day, I don’t stand in front of the CVS and steal no more. I DON’T! She was holding a cup.

I'm not sure how long Jacob was in CVS. It felt like a long time, but I think it was mostly because of the people I saw, so many wild stories walking around on two legs. I can’t even remember the pieces of conversation I heard because they were overwhelming, like standing on the shore as a storm rolls in, and the wind is filling your ears and nearly pushing you over. I felt that rush of human life on the corner in front of CVS.

As the minutes ticked by, a man took up what seemed like a regular spot, not far behind me, and began to ask every passing stranger for a spare cigarette. Can you spare a cigarette? CVS doesn’t sell cigarettes anymore, so he might need to rethink that strategy. One woman passed by, and he asked her for bus fare. She held up her SmarTrip card and said, Only got this, without stopping.

Just a minute or two before Jacob reappeared, a man walked by. I know his name was Mike because the cigarette-begging man behind me saw him and called, Hey Mike. Heeeeey Mike. Spare a cigarette tonight? Mike answered, You got money? You got money, man? Cigarettes don’t come for free. And he walked past without stopping.

What of it? Fifteen minutes of life there in front of CVS. A drop of pond water under the microscope, and it's teeming with squirming creatures, ones you don’t notice, or ones that you’ve never seen. The community that exists, the people who need, the people who have, the people who know each other, the people who are strangers, the life passing and passing and passing. It was wild. It was a trip. And only just before Jacob was finished did I become self-aware, seeing myself standing awkwardly in front of the doors, balancing two bikes against my hip, holding a bouquet of flowers. Who saw me? What did they think? Maybe they’re writing about me somewhere. God, I hope so.

In other thoughts, I just started this book (randomly bought in a West Virginia bookstore, and randomly started despite the other books I’m reading). It’s really really good.

Also, wondering if a dinner of beer + Oreos is reasonable, especially tonight, particularly if I think I’m coming down with a cold? It must be the right choice. With the rain falling, and this album droning into the dark night, and the weight/ease of another year settling in.

Because really, when could beer + Oreos be the wrong choice?