I share a coffee
The sidewalk here is so fantastic, in a Frederico Fellini sort of way. I'm away from the doorway, with my back to the curb, partly for my sense of safety, partly to watch the floor show. I'm drinking a non-fat, short latte, leaning on a mail box.
Suddenly in my face, a bearded figure I've seen before. He's memorable for his great beard, his diminutive size, his persistent pan-handling.
"Hey-you-done-with-that?" he asked, quick staccato words. He's pointing at my half-gone latte.
He's panhandling a coffee? What the heck.
He turned on his heel, went over to the building, sat down on the sidewalk with a fully contented look. I nodded at him. He smiled, imperceptibly. It was like we had become coffee partners, like some sort of sci-fi ritual.
Maybe he'll save my life in the future.