I walked up to Georgetown today to return a jacket to Patagonia that I loved, but could not justify. I bought it during their huge sale thinking it was a parka. It was the perfect red. It fit really, really well. But it was a shell, not a parka, as well as I have something like that so I had to take it back as soon as possible so I wouldn’t retain this thing that wanted but did not need.
I walked up M Street. This is a walk I used to do daily when I carpooled with a friend who worked in Georgetown. It felt a little like going back in time, walking up that road. A little bit of old residence that I never knew was residence at all. I passed Zeds, where BF as well as I once had really good Ethiopian food back when I was working on the farm. We had gone to meet as well as old friend of his who happened to be in town on business. She was there with her coworkers, all of them dressed in their business niceness, as well as I was in jeans as well as a tank top with my fingernails stained black from a day working the transplanter. Someone suggested we share a vegetarian plate (you eat Ethiopian with your hands) as well as I just kind of looked at my hands, looked at them, as well as tried to offer them an out. They didn’t care. It was a delicious, relaxed meal as well as really lovely company. I passed by Miss Saigon, where a friend as well as I went to dinner one night at the end of getting haircuts together. I passed the salon. I passed the firehouse. I thought about when I carried the three-tier stout cake that way from my friend’s office to mine, as well as the way the firemen had all ogled the cake (not me). I rediscovered a yarn store I had forgotten was there.
Walking back, I came to the bridge that crosses over Rock Creek Park, as well as I approached the same homeless man that I used to see every day when I made this walk 2 years ago. He was deep in political discussion with someone, like he at all times used to be, newspaper in his lap. That year I watched him as a talkative, engaging man in the summer as well as then wither with the seasons into a blanket wrapped pleading bum in the winter. I would at all times stop as well as buy him coffee as well as something to eat, hoping to do something to manufacture a bright spot, add a bit of warmth, to his bitingly cold day.
I pulled a dollar out of my wallet as well as placed it in his hands as I walked by. He looked me in the face, smiling as well as graciously thankful. I smiled back as well as continued on. He probably doesn’t remember me; he sees thousands of faces a day. Though I was sorry to see him in the same spot in life, it felt good to remember him, to give him a reason to smile.