i was absolutely delighted to discover tonight when i attempted to start a blog that i already have one! fabulous. past me knew that future me would need a venue. and thanks to past me's foresight and articulate intro, the stage is set and nobody will expect anything of any value from this blog! yay!
the catalyst for reincarnating the blog tonight was an interesting encounter involving a homeless woman and my dear dog harvey that i had today (i know, i know, back to the dogs again, but they're bound to come up now and then).
i was sitting at a stoplight in front of NewBrite Plaza around six thirty tonight. it's a pretty high-traffic area, so there are lots of cars and many pedestrians milling around. kind of in a scummy area of new britain (home sweet home) and the surrounding neighborhood is populated with characters who could easily carry SNL through another ten seasons.
i was on my way home from my parents' house and, as usual, harvey was with me.
he likes to ride shotgun. i don't let him do it very often because it's so dangerous, but he loves it. the night i first took him away from the dank basement he'd spent most of his puppyhood in he rode shotgun because his crate was in the back seat of my car and there was no room for him back there. he's loved the front seat ever since.
he has a seat belt, but it pins him down in a weird and uncomfortable way, so until i make the necessary adjustments it's out of commission. he's pretty quiet in the car, likes to sit and look out the window or curl up and sleep until we reach our destination.
anyway, i was sitting at the light when i noticed a strange woman standing on the corner waiting to cross. i heard her before i saw her, she was raving on and on. i don't know who she was talking to- herself, god, the pigeons in front of dunkin donuts... the possibilities were endless.
she was probably in her forties (but it's often hard to tell, she could have been around my age- sometimes life is hard on people). she was black with crazy unkempt hair, dressed in a black sweatshirt that was about three sizes too big and black leggings, and wearing a blue backpack that was fit to burst.
"hey, you- honey, smile!" she called.
i gave her a flicker of a grin- my entire life people have hounded me to smile. i hear it all the time. it's not that i'm a miserable person, it's just that i have an angry face!! i used to think that about my mother when i was a kid, and it's true for me too. in its relaxed state, the corners of my mouth point down. you know that saying about how it takes more muscles to frown than smile? not in my case. so i'm used to people telling me to smile, and i usually just comply and that's the end of things. that is, unless i really am in a foul mood and then i just level them with a bone chilling glare (my infamous"death stare").
the flicker of a grin wasn't good enough for her, though and as she continued to march across the street she turned so that her entire torso was facing me, perpendicular to the orientation of her legs, which continued their original path. It was truly bizarre.
"oh, no, you gotta smile, honey. you got big boy there with you" (she gestured to indicate harvey, who was smiling vacantly out the window at her- and, incidentally, is not a 'big boy' at all) "that boy, he's your friend, and you'll always have him. look at me, honey, all i got in the world is this bag and i'm smiling. don't nobody love me like that dog loves you. you should be smiling, cause even if everything else is going to hell, you rich. best friend you can have, a dog."
i looked over at my dog
and then i really did smile. a genuine smile, a huge smile.
"there you go, baby- you got it!" she called
i waved as the light turned green "have a good day"
and i smiled all the way home.
