Dog-Leggin’ Downtown

Early downtown,

people looked like they

were hugging the warmth of

their waking hours against them.

The sidewalks held damp and

chill

from overnight rain.

The sun can’t quite

make it out.

People are all over spitting,

the latest craze since

bums spit over our clean streets

in the fifties.

It’s all ages and genders now.

I duck into a warm booth at the back of

New Town Bakery.

Orange plastic upholstery

and

a wood-alike arborite tabletop.

The plastic glass containing amber tea

is room temperature.

I have it replaced with

a hot one

to warm my hards

from the cold gloves

I’ve worn.

I play with the dome

of steamed white dough

secreting black bean paste inside.

The bill is a dollar, fifty-eight.

How is this possible.

I leave three dollars and half the

hot refill of tea.

I will not have people working

for nothing.

"Claiming Unopened Packages of Junk Food Left on Shelf in Phone Booth"

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

4 thoughts on “Dog-Leggin’ Downtown

  1. I have noticed more and more people doing these unthinkable acts in public. Wish I had a hot tea right now! Nicely done, as usual, with your carefully chosen wording and the almost lost art of style, which is not lost on you.

    1. Henry this is such a lovely compliment you have written to me that I was at a loss for words to reply. I have gone over it in my mind many times since I received it.
      Thank you so much… it means a lot to me coming from you: a person I hold in high regard. xo

  2. Oh the prized phone booth! Oh, a great write Nicole! (fix the word hards for hands…I’m just looking after you love! You’d do the same for me!) xoxo

    1. Thanks Lisa,
      Glad you noticed “hands” missing. xo
      I went to change it, and then didn’t, because I feel I want to meditate on the strange meaning of my hards and metaphorical gloves.

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